Feathers for the Sky
by M. Michelon
Summary: <html><head></head>For the majority of Claire Young's life, Quil had always been her shadow. At seventeen, she's ready to be more than his Claire-Bear. But is Quil ready to see the toddler he imprinted on as an adult? Is he ready to stop treating her like a child? Is it time for his little Claire to fly? Or will she always be giving feather to the sky?</html>
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: I'm back! Hey everyone, I'm back and writing again. So, for those who don't know, ****_Lies_**** and ****_Chivalry is Dead_**** were flagged by some reader for inappropriate content. FanFiction's administrators removed them for those reasons. Shortly after, my hard drive crashed and I lost all the chapters I had written. So, I worked myself into the ground all summer, barely getting a single word written down. But, I'm finally back at home and life is finally back to normal. So, I'm giving you guys my newest story: ****_Feathers for the Sky_****. It will be ****reminiscent**** of ****_Lies_****, however, I want to assure my lovely, loyal readers that it is ****_not_**** the same story. **

**Now, I have implemented a new rule regarding the first five chapters of stories that I write. In order for the story to stay up, I need to see at least ****3**** reviews on tonight's chapter. This tells me whether or not people are excited for the story, or whether I need to remove it and rework my chapter. Okay? So... ****THREE**** reviews. I hope you all enjoy!**

**Prologue**

I twirled around before the mirror, watching the black fabric spin around my thighs ever so slightly. There wasn't much movement in the skirt, but there wasn't meant to be. The outfit was designed to fit tight to the body, to reveal nothing but show every motion that my body made. It was supposed to make it easier for the judges to take points off of my routine. Of course, it also helped me win some competitions and conventions, since there was little fluff for me to hide behind in the routines.

My costume was solid black around my hips and upper thigh, were it cut off. As it went farther up my body, it faded all the way to a nude mesh. The fabric was covered with silver rhinestones that formed feathers all down my body until they faded off and the fabric became the black. My mother had even dotted rhinestones over my nude tights. My skates were nude, though. Nothing was to detract from my feet. The judges were supposed to have an unobstructed view of those. All the better to find faults with, naturally. "What is that?" I heard the shout and sighed before I even turned around.

"Don't you like them? Mom had Sandy at the salon put them in last week. Feathers are the new thing, Quil," I insisted. I tossed my straight, black hair, letting the silver and purple feathers that had been glued in my hair shimmer in the light.

"Those aren't the feathers that I'm concerned about," Quil grumbled, his eyes raking over my form again. "What happened to the rest of your skirt, Claire?" I leveled him with a glare, warning him about continuing his statement. "It looks great on you, sweetheart, but…There's no skirt on that outfit."

The man would forever see me as a three-year-old; I was sure. It didn't matter that I was now a seventeen-year-old girl with a form that actually had curves. It didn't matter that I had finally grown into my teeth. All that mattered to him was that I would forever be his little Claire-Bear. I sighed and dropped my head back, staring in utter exasperation at the ceiling. "I don't even know why I show you any of these. You have never liked a single one of them," I grumbled.

"Oh come on, Claire. I liked the ones that you had when you were a little kid," he pointed out. I just glared at him. "It's like no one changed the length of your skirt and you grew like ten feet."

"You're being ridiculous," I said. "Unzip me," I commanded, turning around and baring my back to him. He slid the zipper down, exposing my caramel colored skin to the rest of the room. I knew that he wanted to mention something about the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra, but that was one of the things that Quil wouldn't talk about if his life depended on it. I could never forget the first time that I'd been on my period around him. I'd thought that he was going faint. Anything that proved to him that I was growing into a woman, or anything that was older than a twelve-year-old, quickly scared him away.

As I thought, he skittered away and left me to peel the tight fitting costume from my skin. "You're not going to stay through my private today, are you?" I called from behind the dressing screen. It seemed so old school, but my parents had sacrificed so much for my brother and I to compete in whatever sports we want. In other words, we lived in a three bedroom, two bathroom house with the smallest kitchen that had ever been seen by a soul. My grandfather took the one downstairs room that was available and shoulder have, technically gone to my parents. My parents took one upstairs room, my brother Chance and I sharing the other. Nothing was more awkward than sharing a bathroom with your parents, but the Jack-n-Jill bathroom made it a necessity.

The room was pretty boring as far as decoration. I didn't want to decorate and bother my brother. The only thing that I did have was a dressing screen that my father had bought for me after he'd discovered that I had grown breasts. Maybe it wasn't just Quil that had trouble accepting the fact that I had grown up, I mused, realizing that it was a common theme in my family. That also meant that Quil saw me the same way that my older brother and my father saw me. "I don't know what you're freaking out about," I called as I pulled my spandex leggings and close fitting, long-sleeved t-shirt. "The feathers and appliqués cover the important bits."

"They don't cover enough," I heard him snarl under his breath. I emerged from behind the screen, slipping my feet into backless slippers I so loved. "You know, once upon a time, there was this little girl that I used to take to the beach," he began.

"Oh, Quil, not another story about when I was a child," I groaned, reaching for my skate bag.

"And every single time I took her to the beach, she picked up every single feather that on the beach. No matter how many times that I told her that she shouldn't touch them, she never listened," he pointed out. "And now you've put them in your hear."

"I'm going to tattoo one on my ass if you don't stop overreacting," I mumbled, knowing that he would hear me anyways. It wasn't as if the fabric was completely transparent. "As I recall, you once told me that feathers had _rabies_."

"And you didn't listen to me, did you? You put rabies in your hair, Claire!" I couldn't stop myself from staring at him with nothing short of laughter. There was one way to tell when Quil was getting overwhelmed. Any time that he used stupid evidence as his support for his argument, you knew you'd won and he was getting flustered. It didn't take long for him to start laughing as well, realizing that I was right. "Feathers are for the sky, Claire-Bear."

"If you say that phrase to me again, I'll smack you," I said, pulling my hair into a ponytail and tossing my bag to the man who had been by my side from the time that I was a toddler. "Did you ever consider that maybe I am meant to fly?" I asked him, taking the stairs three at a time and pouncing out to the car.

"You were never meant to fly, Claire," he said. He only smiled when I gave a gasp of offense. "You were meant to soar."


	2. Chapter I

**Author's Note: For those who don't know, this story takes place some five years after the end of ****_Breaking Dawn_****. Oh, and this chapter is six months after the prologue. Enjoy!**

**Chapter I**

"Why are you acting so nervous? You've been practicing this routine for months," Quil said as I stretched. I was sitting straddle, leaned over to my right with my ear against my knee and my left arm extended over my head. My hands were trembling, my tongue running over my lips every few minutes as I watched a few of the other skaters take to the ice. It had been six months since Quil had seen my costume for this routine, and he'd never quite gotten used to it. I was surprised that he wasn't holding a sheet up to shield me from anyone else's view.

"It's the last regional qualifiers for state, Quil," I replied.

"You've already qualified for state, Claire. You're just doing this to prove that you are more than qualified for state," he retorted as I switched sides and looked up at him. "Who knew the world of figure skating was so much of a mental game?" He sighed heavily as I leaned forward to stretch my back and upper thighs. "You'll be just fine, Claire-Bear. You've already qualified for state; it's not like taking sixth in this competition will effect that."

"You think that I'm going to take _sixth_?" I practically shouted, shoving to my feet and staring at him. "Are you kidding? _Sixth?_ I have a title to uphold here, Quil."

"You're not going to take sixth. You're better than that," he said.

"Yeah, but what about that Alicia girl? Did you see her warming up? Her triple salchow was perfect." I patted down my gelled down hair and bit my lip.

"And your salchow with a triple loop is better," he said, settling his hands on my shoulders. "Besides, you have that triple lutz in your routine. You'll be just fine."

"She gets better speed than I do," I pointed out.

"You're a beautiful skater, Claire," he tried again, but now I was too focused on everything else to think about things. "You're gorgeous. You're super skinny. Claire, you're going to have to give me a hint on what I need to say. I'm out of my depth here. You're smarter than every other skater. You've got better technique. You're way prettier. You're nicer. You don't have all the same opportunities that these girls have and you're doing better than most of them. Am I on the right track with any of this?"

"Just ignore me. I'm just freaking out. She's my major competition for star and it sucks because we're both coming from the same region. If she beats me at state, I'll never be able to show my face again."

"A little dramatic, sweetheart," he said, kissing my forehead. "You'll be just fine. You've asked a million questions about her and found out everything. You'll be just fine, Claire."

I should've listened to him. At the end of the competition, I was the first overall and got to enjoy the lovely look on Alicia Smith's face when she realized that I beat her by three technique points. "See? I told you that you were freaking out about nothing," Quil said, lifting my duffle bag onto his shoulder and wrapping the other arm around my shoulders and tugging me into his side. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and squeezed a little tighter. "Your mother texted. She said she's sorry that she wasn't able to get off work."

"It's not a big deal. You know, you've never missed a single one of my competitions," I replied, cocking my head back to look at him.

"And I don't plan on it. Come on, let's get in the truck before someone stops to ask you a million questions about whether or not you'll win state for the third year," he insisted, tugging me towards the car with more persistence this time. "And you have to write that paper for your Tribal Literature class. Besides the fact that you had the competition, the whole reason you're spending the weekend at my apartment was so that I could help you write this paper."

"It's a stupid paper," I said, tossing my skates in their bag into the bed of the truck. "I understand that the Reservation wants us to know who we are and the people that we've come from. Tribal Literature is interesting—"

"If you haven't been taking the class since you were three-years-old," Quil snorted. "You only think that the class is pointless and the paper is stupid because you've been studying the legends since you were a toddler. What's the prompt for your paper anyways?"

"How the history of the Quileute people enter twines with the Makah, as seen as in the legends," I replied. "It's a descriptive paper."

"More like regurgitative paper," he grumbled. "What are you going to write about?"

"Well, I thought I would start with the old legends, move into modern interpretations, and maybe talk a little bit about current imprints. You know, how you're Quileute and I'm Makah and—"

"Claire, that isn't funny."

"I feel like it's a very relevant change in topic, especially since it perfectly illustrates the interconnectedness of our tribes," I continued, pulling the door to his old truck shut.

"You are so not funny," he informed me as he pulled his own door closed. "Seatbelt."

"Thanks, Dad," I retorted. "I would've forgotten to do something that you've been reminding me to do for more than a decade." Tucking my legs up under myself, I leaned over the seat and into his side, feeling the usual post-competition fatigue start to wash over me. "I have a question for you," I breathed on a yawn. "We talked about imprinting in class."

"And you brought up the fact that you were imprinted on when you were three-years-old," he guessed.

"Close, but no. Actually, one of the girls made a point about imprinting that I hadn't thought about before," I muttered. His arm wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me across the bench, nearly choking me on the seatbelt I'd been about to put on. "Do you hate me, Quil?" I muttered.

"What?" he shouted at me. I fastened the seatbelt and settled myself into the hollow between his chest and his arm, resting my head on his chest and wrapping one arm around his waist. "What would make you think that I hate you, Claire? You're my best friend. You're my imprint."

"Yeah, but one of the guys in class mentioned that he would be pissed to imprint. He was saying that he couldn't imagine if he'd had his choice taken from him. And that's what imprinting is; it's taking away the wolf's choice," I mumbled sleepily. "Besides, you imprinted on me thirteen years ago, Quil."

"What does that have do with anything?" he asked me. I rolled my eyes and yawned again. "Claire, what does this have to do with anything? Why would I hate you?"

I scrubbed my cheek against his chest and yawned again. "Have you looked around at the rest of the Pack? Everyone is married and starting their families. They have kids and jobs and…and you're here with me, Quil. All of your friends are thirty and getting on with their lives and you're sitting around waiting for me to grow up."

"You're hardly six-years-old, Claire. You're almost seventeen," he said, the hand that was resting on my waist coming up to stroke my hair.

"Not that you act like it." I knew that it wasn't the right thing to say. I was so tired, though, I couldn't think straight. It was a common problem after competing. I worked myself into a frenzy worrying about whether or not I would make the top three. By the time that I finished my routine, I was so freaking tired emotionally and physically that I could barely see straight. It was also the time that revealed the most important crap going on in my brain was revealed. "Sometimes, you still treat me like I'm the toddler that you first imprinted on."

"That's not true, Claire. The toddler that I imprinted on would've worn a longer skirt for her routine this afternoon," he retorted, rubbing my hair like I was an affectionate pet.

"You are so frustrating sometimes," I muttered. "Wake me up when we're home. I have to write that paper before I go to bed. You want to do the bonfire tomorrow, right?"

"It's the same time, every single month, Claire-Bear."

"It's a party, Quil; not my period," I snapped.

"There you go doing the whole TMI thing," he said.

I snorted. "No one says TMI anymore, Quil. If you say it around people, they're going to realize that you're not twenty or whatever age you're pretending to be."

"You make it sound like I'm ancient," he retorted. "All right, go to bed before you say something else that I don't want to here," he commanded.

"Kay. Love you, Quil."

"Love you, too, Claire-Bear."


	3. Chapter II

**Author's Note: Do to my hectic schedule, I have decided that post a schedule on my profile. Basically, every Sunday night, I'll put up a new schedule that will let you know when the chapters will be posted during the week. Okay? Enjoy!**

**Chapter II: ****_Quil's Point of View_**

Claire was passed out on the bed, curled on her side and clutching my pillow to her chest. I was trying to be the responsible adult and read through her paper, but she was right: writing the paper had been little more than a joke to her. I had only been out of school for a few years when the Quileute and Makah reservations decided to pool their educational funding and open the Native School. Of course, in order to get the special government funding, they'd needed to make it an "officially Native school," special provisions were needed.

Thus was born the Tribal Literature and Culture class. I understood the idea. They wanted kids to be proud of who they were, of their heritage, of the legends that made up their cultures. The Pack was still a secret, a legend that the kids were told in school. But, for someone like Claire, the class was pointless. She'd grown up hearing the legends. Hell, she was living them. Having to go to a class every day that told her everything she already knew…it was probably more boring than I could explain.

Still, she was a dedicated student. Just because she didn't want to write the paper didn't mean that she couldn't do it and do it well. I was sure that it had something to do with the promises that I'd extracted from her when she was young. Any time that she wanted to come and spend a weekend with me, which had been every weekend from the time that she was five, she had to finish all of her chores before she left and do all of her homework while she was with me. Not to sound smug or anything, but I liked to believe that I was the reason that she was in the top five of her class.

Claire groaned and flipped over on the bed, digging her hands into the sheets and wrapping herself into linens a little tighter. I couldn't help but smile at her, even as I watched her shiver. I suppose that's what happens when you spend years curling up to a human furnace. She used to take her naps curled against my side, lining my chest, or sprawled over my chest. Now, she preferred to sleep in a warm environment. Even at her home, she slept with three blankets to ward off the chill my lack of presence left.

I tossed her paper back into her binder and padded over to the bed, curling onto my side and wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her back against my chest. She sighed and pressed her frigid toes against my calf, sending ripples up my spine. How the girl's blood could possibly average almost a hundred degrees was beyond me. Her feet were as cold as the ice that she skated on. The good news was, they only took a few minutes to warm up again.

I smiled into her hair, feeling her heart rate slow a little more as she nestled herself into my arms. It was hard to believe that the girl lying in my arms was the same little toddler that I had first met at the beach so many years ago. There were still remnants of that little Claire. There were moments where she would look at me, where she would narrow her eyes and I could see the impish gleam in her eyes. The same one that used to sparkle when she'd been a child.

In so many ways, though, I was losing the little Claire that I loved so well. The girl that was wrapped in my arms was almost more woman that she was child. While Claire argued that I didn't notice the changes that had happened to her in the last few years, she was wrong. I knew every little change that she'd gone through. Hell, most of them turned my stomach in knots when I was home alone. The day that she'd first told me about a crush on a boy, the first time she'd left a bra sitting on my couch, the first time tampons were left in my apartment…They were all engrained in my head, all moments that I'd thought I was going to lose my mind.

Every time that I thought little Claire had disappeared, my older Claire showed me ways that the child inside of her was still alive. She would remind me something that I said to her when she was a kid or make a joke about something that we'd done when she was little. Or, she would write a paper that told off every single girl or boy in her class who thought that imprinting was a curse.

I sighed as I remembered her words in the truck earlier in the evening. How could she ever think that I hated her? For thirteen years, I had what thousands of people searched for: confidence. People spent their entire lives looking for the person that they would be with, that would make them happy. I had that person. I'd had that happiness for almost fifteen years. Sure, it wasn't the same happiness that Jake or Embry had. But almost fifteen years with Claire brought a different kind of happiness to life.

The other guys got to see their imprints learn to trust them and, eventually, to fall in love with them. I got to watch Claire learn to cut her chicken all by herself. I got to enjoy her first skating lesson. I got to put ice on her first bruises and scrapes. I got to teach her to swim, to surf, to cliff dive. I got to see more with my imprint than the guys would their entire lives. I curled my arm tighter around her waist and breathed in deeply of her hair, stroking her hair with one hand and circling the thumb of my other hand on her waist. "Guess you're not really my little Claire-Bear anymore, huh?" I breathed against her skin.

_"__Qwil," she had said all those years ago, her voice groggy with sleep. Her little legs were splayed over my chest while I carried her, one arm hooked beneath her bottom and the other on her back. She leaned her head back against my hand to look up at me. _

_"__Go to sleep, Claire-Bear. Maybe Auntie Emily will let me spend the night tonight," I promised her, patting down her hair. "You don't want to get me in trouble for letting you stay up late, do you?" _

_"__I'm not tired," she argued, but she yawned and pressed her little face against my neck. "Qwil?"_

_"__Claire, it's bed time. Mommy and Auntie Emily will be mad if you're still awake when we come home," I said softly. _

_"__I have a qweston," she insisted. "What's an imprint?" _

_I stopped dead on the beach, staring at the little face that was pressed against my shoulder and neck. "It's somefing I heard in the stories tonight," she explained, her brow puckering as she worried that she had upset me. Then her eyes opened wide and goosebumps rippled her arms. "Is it a bad word, Qwil? Like the ones that Mommy said not to say _**_ever_**_?" _

_"__No, no love. Imprint is a good word. Let's see," I sighed, trying to figure out how to explain to a five-year-old that she was going to be loved by me for the rest of my life. I sank down onto the log and pushed Claire onto my knees so that I could look at her face as I explained. "You know how Ryanne and Jakey are best friends?" I asked her. _

_"__Yeah, but not like _**_we_**_ are. We're best friends forever," she said seriously. _

_"__We are, Claire-Bear. We're best friends forever, just like I always promised you," I said, patting her curls down and beaming at her. "An imprint is just a special word for friend, Claire. It's the way that the people in the legends say that they want to be best friend forever." Her brow was still drawn in confusion, her little eyes narrow. "What's wrong, Claire? You don't want to be friends with me?" _

_"__You are my best friend, Qwil," she growled, her little palms coming up to frame my face. "Why don't they just say that they gonna be best friends?" she asked. _

_"__Well…because…you know how I'm a big dog, Claire?" I asked. She smiled and nodded, releasing my face to cover her eyes like I'd taught her after I'd first shown her my wolf. The last thing that I needed was for a five-year-old to run around telling her friends that she saw her teenage best friend naked. "No, no; not right now, Claire. Only people who are dogs get to have imprints. Auntie Emily is Uncle Sam's imprint. Ryanne is Jakey's imprint. Kimmie—"_

_"__Is Jarwed's?" she guessed, smiling at me when I nodded at her. "So… We're going to be best friends forever?" _

_"__Forever and ever, love. I promise." I smiled at her. _

_"__Are we gonna be kissing friends, too?" I hung my head down, not sure how to respond to that one. _

_"__Maybe when I don't have cooties. Now, you have to go to bed, Claire-Bear, before Mommy finds us."_


	4. Chapter III

**Author's Note: Okay everyone, here's the next chapter. I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for the reviews. You guys are truly the most wonderful readers that anyone could ask for. Enjoy!**

**Chapter III**

I don't know if there is anything better than waking up in the morning wrapped in Quil's arms. It wasn't the first time that I had ever woken up with his steel bands surrounding my waist and keeping me pulled against his chest. God willing, it wouldn't be the last time that I woke up there either. I could easily recall the first time that I had opened opened my eyes to come face to face with Quil's chest.

I couldn't have been more than five-years-old. I remember that I'd had a nightmare, that I hadn't been able to sleep. And my parents, much to my father's discontent, had been forced to call Quil to come and calm me down. My parents had obviously been told that Quil was a wolf and that he had imprinted on me. How could you hide something that big from the parents of a toddler? It took my fathers a few years to figure out that he wasn't the only man in my life anymore. That night, though, there was no subduing me. It was the first time that my father had turned to Quil to take care of me.

I had woken up the next morning in Quil's lap, my arms wrapped around his neck and my face pressed against his neck. Quil had been reclining in my father's old arm chair, his eyes closed and smudged with exhaustion. One of his arms was wrapped around my waist, his hand splayed over my back. The other had was buried in my hair, his hands lightly massaging my skull. I could recall the feeling of it even to this day. It was the first time that I remembered feeling like nothing could ever hurt me.

Quil's breath hitched behind me, his arms constricting around me for a moment while he shrugged off sleep. He groaned, blowing out a puff of air that whispered through my hair while I curled myself against his chest. "I don't want to wake up," he grumbled, stretching like a cat even while his arms curled to a point nearing pain around me. He rolled around, keeping me locked in his embrace, and pulled me onto my opposite side. I dropped my head onto his shoulder and tossed my arm over his chest, enjoying the comfort of familiarity.

"I have to go running," I muttered, sitting up and stretching, looking down to make sure that my sports bra was covering everything that it was supposed to. "I'll be back in an hour or so," I added for good measure.

I had barely made it to the foot of the bed before Quil's arms locked around my torso again and pulled me back down onto the bed. "Was their really any part of your brain that thought I was going to let you go running without me?" he asked. I rolled my eyes and heaved a sigh.

"I'm not kidding, Quil. I have to go running. And if you're not ready in ten minutes, I'm leaving without you," I warned, prying his arms apart and rummaging through the drawer that I kept in the apartment. I dug through the thing until I found the running pants that I was looking for. Quil was in the bathroom, attending to his "manly things," as he'd told me when I'd been a child. Quickly, before he could see me and notice, I stripped out of my sleeping pants and tank top and yanked on my running clothes. I didn't need to relive the awkward moment of Quil seeing me naked…Ever again.

While I waited for Quil, who I would never leave behind, I sat on the counter eating a banana. As a rule, I didn't eat a meal before I went running. But I was also one of those who tended to get a little angry when I didn't have food in my stomach. "Get off the counter, Claire. How many times have I told you that?" he growled as I slid off the granite.

"About as many times as I've told you that you're not my father," I retorted, yanking my shoes onto my feet. "Let's go."

Quil acted like running was the easiest thing in the world while I fought the urge to vomit after only a mile or two, let alone the five that we were planning on doing. "You….are not…going with…me…to practice," I panted when we made it back to the house. "I'll grab breakfast…on my way," I added.

"It's a Sunday morning and you're going to go practice at the rink?" he asked me. "Do you ever take a day off?"

"I have to win State this year, Quil. You know how important it is to me. Don't forget that we're doing dinner at my parents' tonight and that you're supposed to bring Papa Quil." I pressed up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek before sauntering off to his bathroom to wash my face and change into my practice clothing. The leggings and tank top clung to every inch of my body, the legs on the belling out. They would cling to my skates when I finally put them on and cover the tops. "I'm leaving now, Quil!" I shouted as I grabbed my practice bag and headed for his truck.

"I don't even get to drive you?" he asked in indignation, but I waved him away and started for his truck. It was our usual Sunday routine. Though Quil would never admit it to me, I knew that he followed me to the rink. Whether he was running patrol like he was supposed to or just watching over me, I didn't know. But I did know that he was always there, outside the rink. I caught glimpses of his wolf fur when he thought that he was well hidden. When I was younger, I'd found his constant hovering annoying. Now, though…Now it was like a security blanket. Quil was always there.

The rink was empty. Most of the people who used the ice skating rink in Forks were recreational. Those who were competitors never practiced on Sundays. Most of them didn't take this sport as seriously as I did. Figure skating was the only way that I had to really make a name for myself. To the Tribal Elders and those who knew the Pack, I would always be known as the Toddler Imprint. But I couldn't be that person to everyone else and I couldn't just be another Makah girl.

I didn't want to be famous. I just wanted someone, somewhere to know my name. I wanted some little girl in our tribe to see me competing at State and to think that she could do it, too. Figure skating was one way that I could do that, one way that I could have my name in the world. The sport was fleeting. Girls didn't get to live long in the limelight in this sport. Skaters were able to do more in their youth than they were as they got older. I could skate for a few years, go to school, start teaching other girls how to skate.

Maybe, just maybe, Quil would open his eyes and see that I was more than an toddler now and we could start a family. Until that day, though, I figured I was just going to have to be patient. The boys put up with a lot from the imprints. Each of us women, and Nate, of course, had different personalities and struggled with our pasts. In Ryanne's life, it was all about Bella and the difficulties that her older sister had left behind. Spencer and Penn had survived hells that I couldn't imagine. Tucker had learned that men weren't to be trusted. Roxanne had found that she could only rely on herself. Kim and Charlie both struggled with trusting that they were enough. And me? I was just the little girl that Quil had helped raise.

But there was a benefit to growing up with the Pack. I had seen what it did to the boys when they were pushed. I saw the way that they would buckle under pressure and shatter when pushed into the corner. Much as I wanted to tie Quil to the bed and kiss him until he realized that I wasn't ten-years-old anymore, I couldn't. The boys had a tendency to blame themselves for things that weren't at all their doing. Quil had to come to his own realization that this was what I wanted.

If he took too long, though, I would have to kill him. I wasn't going to wait until I was old enough to be a spinster to start our lives. I took to the ice, gliding over the frozen water as easily as I walked on solid land. I wasn't sure if I could wait for Quil, now that I was thinking about things.

I was just going to have to talk to the girls. I wouldn't push Quil into a corner…but maybe I could fool him into thinking it was all his idea.


	5. Chapter IV

**Author's Note: I know; I'm a terrible terrible person. I know the chapter is late and everything. Today was a day full of class and all three jobs. I'm sorry that it took so long. Enjoy!**

**Chapter IV**

My Aunt Emily and Uncle Sam had been together for as long as I could remember. Knowing about imprints and wolves, and having gotten old enough to actually understand what it was all about, I realized that my aunt and uncle hadn't always been together. In fact, a lot of their history was tangled and messy. When I was little, I only knew that my Cousin Leah was angry until she'd met Cousin Nate. Everything had been so confusing when I was a child. People were angry. People were sad and hurt and…and confusing.

Except for Quil. There was nothing confusing about Qui. He was the one thing that had always been there for me. But having Quil as my best friend had stopped being enough when I'd turned had been some three years since I had decided that I wanted more from the man, but nothing had changed. Quil still treated me like I was little more than a preteen. I was getting to the point of desperation, which meant that I needed help. From the only people who would be able to do anything for me: the Imprints.

"Claire!" a little boy's voice shouted, though my name didn't quite come out normal. It was the way that it always happened when I walked into Ryanne and Jake's house. Willy rushed forward and wrapped his arms around my legs and squeezed tight. "Mommy had another baby," he told her seriously. I smiled at the little boy and wrapped my arms about his head.

"I know, little man," I replied. "Where's your brother?"

"Outside. Did you know that the new baby is a girl?" he asked her. "I asked Mommy for a baby brother, but she gave me a girl this time." He sighed heavily. "I don't want a little girl in the house. It will be like having Lizzy live here all the time." The apparent horror in his voice made me chuckle a little, but I swallowed the giggles down and patted his head.

"Why don't you go out back and play with your brother? The rest of the boys will be here soon," I told him, using his shoulders to turn him around and gently push him towards the back door. He skipped off happily, leaving me standing in the entryway by myself for a few moments before I moved into the living room.

Jake was seated in a recliner, a pink bundle wrapped in his arms. I couldn't help but laugh when I saw the loving, adoring look on the gown man's face. He was more than twenty-seven-years-old, but he was acting like a child on Christmas morning. "Well the sun is surely sinking down, but the moon is slowly rising. So this old world must still be spinning round and I still love you," he sang softly, smiling a little when the baby's mouth opened wide in a yawn. He brought her up to her face and pressed a kiss against her forehead, patting her back a little. Baby Sarah gave a soft wail before Jake shifted her so that her tiny, week-old face was pressed in the crook of his neck.

"So close your eyes, you can close your eyes. It's all right. I don't know no love songs and I can't sing the blues anymore," he continued. His voice was soft, but rough and deep. I had memories of fall asleep on Quil's chest, with his deep voice rumbling in my ears. That little girl would cherish these nights for the rest of her life, I was sure. "But I an sing this song and you can sing this song when I'm gone. It won't be long before another day, we're going to have a god time. And no one's going to take that time away. You can stay as long as you like. So close your eyes. You can close your eyes. It's all right." He turned his head and kissed his daughter's dark hair again. "I don't know no love songs and I can't sing the blues anymore. But I can sing this song and you can sing this song when I'm gone."

Jake sat there for a little while, watching his little daughter breathe before he noticed me. "I can take her back to Ryanne," I offered, stepping forward and extending my arms. One day, God willing, I would have my own children and I wouldn't have to offer to do all the dirty work to hold a baby.

"If you touch her, I'll take your arms off," Jake warned me, lifting his other hand to splay it over his daughter's back. "Sarah and I are going to sleep right here until Mama comes and tells us that we have to go to bed," he whispered into her tiny ear. "Annie and the rest of the girls are in the kitchen," he added softly, settling a blanket over Sarah's body before pulling a lightweight blanket over himself. He would probably be uncomfortable under all that heat, but he would do anything if it meant that his daughter was comfortable and warm.

My Aunt Emily was fussing over the amount of work that Ryanne was doing in preparing her famous lasagne, making comments about the baby being eight-days-old and Ryanne needing her rest. "Emily, this is my third child. I know what I can and cannot do. And, since Jake finally got the little girl that he's been dying for, the only thing that I've had to do so far is feed her."

"And birth her," I pointed out, popping myself up onto the countertop and waiting for Ryanne to yell at me. "I'm just saying, your five hours of labor account for something."

"It's cute that you think I was only in labor for five hours," Ryanne laughed. "And the fact that you just grabbed a jar of Nutella tells me that something is severely wrong. What's going on?"

"So…you know how Quil imprinted on me?" I asked softly, parting my legs to grab the spoon from the drawer below me.

"Thirteen years ago?" Penn asked, coming in from the dining room with her daughter on her hip. "Auntie Annie, Willy pushed Lizzy down into the sandbox."

"And Lizzy is in the house because…?" Ryanne trailed off.

"Because we came to talk to Auntie Annie about what Willy did," Penn said, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Lizzy should go back outside and tell Willy that she'll beat him up if he doesn't knock it off. And that Auntie Annie showed her how to throw a good punch," Ryanne said. Lizzy squirmed, struggling to get off her mother's hip until Penn finally dropped her daughter to the ground again.

"Elizabeth, Auntie Annie is kidding. You are not to beat up your cousin. Lizzy!" she shouted after her daughter. "Thanks, Ryanne. That was literally no help."

"They'll be just fine, Penn," Tucker said, pushing my knees apart so that she could grab her own spoon. "The boys won't let anything happen to the kids. I'm sure that Paul will make Willy apologize before Lizzy can hurt him. You're worrying too much." She took a spoonful of the hazelnut spread and licked it before speaking again. "We're eating chocolate out of a jar. Who are we killing tonight?" she asked.

"Claire wanted to remind us all that Quil imprinted on her," Ryanne said.

"Oh right," Roxie said as she came into the kitchen. "I'd forgotten that had happened. Oh, wait! I wasn't there. You were imprinted on before me."

"Yes, yes; I get it. Everyone knows that Quil imprinted on me a lifetime ago. That's not the problem here. The problem is that Quil is supposed to be whatever it is that I want him to be. When I was little, I wanted him to be my best friend and then my protector and now…"

"Now you want him to be your boyfriend," Charlie said as she came in as well. "It's scary, huh?"

"Oh please. Like any of you understand what it's like," Spencer growled as she came into the room as well. "There are two of us who know that pain: me and Ryanne."

"Excuse me," Kim protested. "I believe that I was in love with Jared for close to a year before he imprinted on me."

"Yes, but you were trying to be invisible," Ryanne said. "You were hiding in your sister's shadow. And it wasn't you that had to convince Jared to be in love with you. Jared did all the convincing."

"And Jake did all the convincing for you," Kim retorted.

"Great; so I'm the only one who is going to understand what's going on for Claire," Spencer said.

"Well, hold on now!" someone else protested, but I couldn't tell who it was. They were talking over one another, arguing about who it was that knew my pain.

"Hey!" I screamed, loud enough to be heard above the clamor. "Call me selfish, but we're supposed to be talking about me. I need help. I need Quil to fall in love with me."


	6. Chapter V

**Author's Note: I know that it's been a while. I'm super sorry guys. Between homecoming weekend and my (home)work schedule, I haven't been able to do much of anything. Double chapter update on Thursday. For those who follow ****_Beware the Frozen Heart_**** and ****_Unwritten_****, there will be chapter posts late tonight and after midnight. Enjoy!**

**Chapter V**

If Tom Cruise thought that his missions were impossible, he had another thing coming. Compared to what I had to do, dressing up in costumes and going after terrorists seemed easy. Tom Cruise had never had to figure out how to make someone fall in love with him and have it appear to be _their_ idea.

I flopped back on my bed and pulled my giant stuffer wolf into my side. The girls had idea to help me. Although, after a short time, the talk of tricking Quil into falling in love turned into talk about tricks their had pulled on their own husbands. The girls were wonderful. Truly, I wouldn't trade them for the world. But occasionally, they drove me to the brink of insanity. I wanted what they had. I wanted Quil to see me, the _real_ me. More than just a child he imprinted on once upon a time.

I rolled my head to the side to look into the fake marble eyes of the animal I'd been give after my abduction. I had always known, even as a young girl, that Quil would save me. There was never a question of it in my mind. I'd been young when I'd been taken, only seven-years-old. After Quil, Seth, and Collin had rescued us, I had told him that I was fine. I had promised him that I wasn't afraid, that I never had been. But, for the two months, I had clung to Quil's side every single night. My parents didn't try to convince him to go home. He was practically a permanent fixture in our house. Despite the fact that I claimed I wasn't afraid, I had secretly been terrified every moment that I'd been away. And every time that Quil was away from my side, I panicked.

That was when he'd bought the wolf for me. At seven, I believed him when he said that the wolf was a part of him and would watch over me whenever he was away. Now, ten years later, I knew that that wasn't true. But the stuffed animal still slept on my bed with me and curled itself into my chest as I slept. It was a weird kind of security blanket.

One that I had been living with for far too long.

I tossed the animal back into the pillows and rolled off the bed, pulling the sweater Quil had left over my head. I stomped my feet into my boots and growled, tugging the cell phone out of my pocket. _"Claire, it is two in the morning. Is everything okay?"_ he asked me, his voice heavy with sleep. _"Did you have a nightmare?"_ Nightmares were something that were frequent in my life. Quil excused it away by saying that I had seen too many tortures in my life. I had seen the wars between vampire factions. I had seen newborn soldiers born. I had seen my best friend torn apart and mangled by monster that shouldn't exist.

I knew the truth though. I had nightmares because I was weak, because every time I closed my eyes without Quil beside me, I wondered if I was ever going to feel those arms around me again. I wondered if he wasn't going to find some nomad roaming too close to the borders, one that would be stronger than he expected and do what should be impossible. I feared every moment that he was away. That was what my nightmares were. That was what haunted me every night.

"No; I didn't have a nightmare. Could you run over here, though? I need to talk to you," I muttered into the phone. If it was any other boy, my parents would freak. I shouldn't be on the phone with a guy at two in the morning. My mother would tell me that it send boys the wrong idea. But this was Quil. He'd had almost as heavy a hand in my raising as my parents had. "It's important, Quil," I insisted, though I was sure he was probably dressing even as I pleaded.

_"I'll be there in fifteen minutes,"_ he said. The phone beeped in my ear as he hung up and probably left his room to start running.

It was time that I stopped hiding behind myself. Quil could think of ways to make me fall in love with him if he wanted. Tonight, for a brief second, I was going to claim insanity and make this what I wanted it to be. I couldn't keep hiding behind my childhood. I had to stop using the excuse that he'd imprinted on me almost fifteen years ago. It was time to stand on my own two feet and demand that he see me as larger. If he wanted to be wounded and hurt by it, if he wanted to blame himself, so be it. I would find a way to fix that later. Right now, I needed this.

I was standing on the porch when Quil sprinted from the trees, still in wolf form. His chest was heaving with exertion. I was fairly certain that he'd sprinted and ran so quickly, that his paws had barely touched the ground. He growled softly, the sound more comforting than it was dark. "I'm fine. I just needed to talk to you. Could you phase back? Or do you have to get back to patrol?" I knew that he had been sleeping when I called, but that didn't mean that he didn't have next shift for patrol.

His muzzle dipped before he dashed off to the trees. The wind was blowing harsh from the sea as I waited, feeling it pull at the length of his sweatshirt. "What the heck is going on, Claire?" he asked me, his large frame blocking the wind. He came to stand right up against me, the canine heat of him. "Is everything okay?" His fingers closed around my upper arms, pulling me into a hug.

"Everything is fine," I whispered again, curling myself into his embrace. Everything ounce of courage in my body had decided to disappear as I was in his arms. Maybe I should let him make his own decisions about us. Forcing him into a relationships that he didn't want wouldn't make him love me as anything more than his younger sister.

But...That damn word was stuck in my brain. Quil was wrong about my nightmares being because of the pain that I had seen in my life. But he was right that I had seen what could easily happy to people that I cared about. "Claire, you're freaking me out. Tell me what's wrong so that I can fix it. How many times have I told you that one? You have to help me if you want me to help you." His hand stroked over my hair.

I gathered my courage around me, coiling it around myself like the warmth of his arms and leaned back. I braced my weight against the hands that were splayed over my back, looking up at him. "I don't want to lose you, Quil," I whispered. He frowned at me, his thick brows coming together in a 'v.'

"You did have a nightmare, didn't you? I wish you would just tell me when you did. It would make this so much easier. I was freaking out. I thought that something had happened to you or Chance or your parents. What was your dream about?" He pulled me closer and led me to the bench the my parents sported on the front porch. I sat beside him, but I kept myself stiff. I needed to get these words out of my head and explain what I was feeling. This wasn't about some dream.

I pushed myself off the swing and moved to stand against the porch railing, my hands locked behind my back as I stared at him. "Claire, talk to me. Nothing that you can say is going to scare me or hurt me. Was...was I the bad guy in your dream? Did I hurt you?"

"Like you would ever hurt me," I scoffed. "Every dream I've ever had with you in it usually ends with you saving me. I'm like some damsel in distress from a fairytale. I can't get alone without you."

"Claire, it's okay if I was the bad guy. You've seen me kill before. In your head, you knew that they were vampires and that I was protecting you. But you were young. It would look like I was killing people, some who looked as young as our friends. It would give anyone nightmares," he reasoned.

"I don't have nightmares about you!" I shouted; he growled. I could see that he was getting impatient with me. He wanted an answer and he wanted one now.

Using my hands as leverage, I lunged myself forward into his lap, planting my lips firmly against his.

**Convulsion**

**s**


	7. Chapter VI

**Author's Note: I know it's been a few days for you guys and I'm truly sorry for that. But, I'm getting things back on track here. I'll have another update for this story up tonight. In addition, there were chapters posted to ****_Chasing the Sun _****and****_ Beware the Frozen Heart_****. Also, I will be posting a chapter to ****_Unwritten_**** this evening (or really early tomorrow morning, depending on how you look at it). ****_TOMORROW NIGHT_**** I will be posting the schedule on my profile. It's going to be a little funky while I figure out how to plan catch-up for missing so many updates, but I'm getting them out as soon as I can. Enjoy!**

**Chapter VI: ****_Quil's Point of View_**

"Claire, talk to me," I begged, feeling helpless. She had called me in the middle of the night to ask me to come to her house, but she was telling me nothing. "Nothing that you can say is going to scare me or hurt me." She just kept looking at the ground, staring at the wooden planks in the porch. My mind searched for the reasons behind her behavior. "Was… Was I the bad guy in your dream? Did I hurt you?" Even the thought of her having a dream where _I_ hurt her, made my heart clench.

"Like you would ever hurt me," she said with a derisive chuckle. "Every dream I've ever had with you in it usually ends with you saving me. I'm like some damsel in distress from a fairytale. I can't get along without you." While that idea made blood surge, she obviously wasn't too happy with the idea. And it would be just like her to be trying to make _me_ feel better.

"Claire," I said slowly, "it's okay if I was the bad guy. You've seen me kill before." Even though the idea hurt my heart, I couldn't bring myself to regret it. I'd done what I needed to to save her life. "In your head, you knew that they were vampires and that I was protecting you. But you were young. It would look like I was killing _people_, some who looked as young as our friends. It would give anyone nightmares."

"I don't have nightmares about you!" she screamed, but her posture didn't change. I couldn't stop the growl that reverberated in my throat. There were only a few options here. Either something was seriously wrong with my imprint and she wasn't sure how to tell me, or I was the monster in her nightmares. I doubted the first one very much. Claire told me everything, even the things that I didn't always want to know. There had been a period of her life where I had been subjected to every shred of gossip that had come out of her school. I was beginning to think that I wasn't the source of her nightmares, either. When Claire was lying and couldn't get away with it, she broke down in tears. She felt bad for lying and hurting people. She never really got _angry_.

Before I had another second to ask her what was wrong, or dig to the bottom of things, Claire had shoved away from the railings and launched herself into my lap. Her arms wound around my neck as her mouth latched onto mine. I stilled, every fiber of my being trembling. The wolf in me was shivering, howling, purring with glee. This was everything that side of my brain had been begging for since she'd turned fifteen. Of course, at the time, I'd been able to convince myself that she was too young for me to do anything, to act on that part of my brain.

She was seventeen now, though. And it would be a lie to say that I hadn't noticed the changes in her. I just hadn't noticed them pressed up against my chest, with well toned arms wrapped around my neck. Her lips moved slowly, hesitantly, against mine. Like she wasn't quite sure she knew what she was doing, but she knew that this was what she wanted. No matter how much I wanted to fight it, I was losing.

Without my permission, I felt my fingers thread themselves through her loose mass of hair. The other settled on her back, where the ridges of her spine pressed into my palm. I told myself not to, tried to command my arms to move away from her. I needed to push her away. Something was wrong, very wrong. Kissing Claire now would only make me like every man that I'd tried to protect her from. I would be taking advantage of her when what she really needed was comfort. But she was making it damn near impossible.

Her responses to me were untutored. Her kiss was unskilled. The way that she moved against me when my hands began slowly moving up and down her back… I was losing my mind. The wolf in me decided that he'd had enough fighting. I lost control…of everything. With the bench still swinging beneath us, I pushed her onto her back so that I could loom over her. The cushioned bench provided her with enough comfort that my guilt was assuaged easily enough. The hands that had been threaded at the nape of my neck then fell to my shoulders. She clutched herself up to me, arching her back enough that I could slide one hand beneath her.

The swing wouldn't stop moving, swaying back and forth. It was dizzying, the motion combined with the heady feeling of kissing this woman. And it was a woman that Claire had become. I could keep trying to fool myself, but the reality was there. My Claire-Bear wasn't a toddler anymore. She was a woman, full grown and, by the feel of the body beneath me, well formed. The wolf in my brain had finally snapped my carefully tightened leash. And he was refusing to be pulled back into submission.

Claire broke away from me with a gasp, her small callused hands pushing against my chest. I regained enough sanity to pull away from her mouth, but not enough to let her go entirely. The sweet, baby powder-like scent of her was swirling in my nose. My lips moved over her chest, down her jaw, to the smooth, sensitive skin on her neck. I heard my name on her lips, the sound as breathless as feathers on the wind. Some part of my mind registered the way that she was gasping for air, the she was begging and pleading for something, but a larger part of my brain had other concerns.

Mentally, I calculated each kiss. I documented the way that she remained breathless, but still, when my teeth grazed the cartilage shell of her ear. I catalogued the quick intake of air when I nibbled on her ear lobe. I mentally noted the way that her nails dug into my skin when I kissed the soft spot just below her ear. Her pulse thrummed beneath my lips when I reached that point in her neck. She was too much. Too much to think about. Too much to breathe in. If I didn't know any better, I would say that she was too much for me to love.

When I reached her collarbone, my heart was thumping so loudly in my ears I couldn't hear anything else. Not even when I heard her mutter my name or felt her arms pushing more insistently against my chest could I bring myself to pull away. She tasted too good; felt too right. This was why all my friends had moved things as quickly as they had. If Claire had been older, I would have too. And yet, at this moment, Claire's blood surging right alongside mine, I knew why I had waited. My patience had paid off.

"Quil!" she practically shouted, jerking her neck away from my lips and using a fist to pound me on the shoulder. My common sense returned almost instantly, my brain clearing of the fog that she had created. Claire was staring at me, her eyes half lidded. Her lips were swollen, nearly bruised with the force of my kisses. Her hair had already been a riotous mass about her face, but now it was wild. She was stunning; everything that a man could ever imagine. When someone pictured desire, it was Claire at this moment.

Beneath the cloud that was desire, though, I saw fear. Claire was _afraid _of me. Whether it was the things that I made her feel or the way that I had kissed her, I couldn't say for sure. I only knew that I had done what I had sworn to never do. I had taken advantage of and scared the person in this world who was the most important to me. "Claire…Claire, I'm—" I didn't have the words to properly apologize to her. She deserved so much better than what I had done. "I'm so sorry," I managed to get out of my mouth.

I pushed my self off the bench and as far away from her as I could in the next instantly, praying that she would give me a chance to explain. But not now; not at the moment. I needed time to cool the blood that was running through my veins, to convince myself that I couldn't pull my imprint up the stairs and into her bedroom. I left her, sitting on the porch swing, looking thoroughly disheveled. I could easily recall the feel of her beneath my hands, the warmth of her lips beneath mine.

Being wrong about something had never felt so good.


	8. Chapter VII

**Author's Note: Second chapter of the night. Enjoy!**

**Chapter VII**

I was lying across my bed with my head buried in my pillows, praying to God that my mother would believe me when I told her that I was sick. There was a deal that had been arranged when I was little more than a child. Any time that I missed school, for anything less than an illness, my mother made me miss a figure skating competition. The idea was to inspire me to go to school, to make sure that I never got the idea in my head that I could quit school or skip school to skate.

But I didn't feel like skating today. I didn't feel like moving. I wanted to sit in my bed, eat Nutella out of the jar, and cry until there were no tears left in my eyes. I had thrown myself at the man, quite literally. For a few moments, I'd thought that I was winning. I'd thought that Quil was responding. It had certainly felt as if he was. I would've staked my life that he'd kissed me back. It had been glorious until I'd heard one of my family rummaging in the kitchen.

While I'd been fairly certain that it was my brother, who would never tell my parents that he'd caught me making out with a boy on the front porch, I couldn't run the risk that it was my father or, heaven forbid, my mother downstairs. I'd only been trying to get his attention when he'd shoved off the bench and disappeared into the forest. I had sat there, like some idiot, telling myself that he'd heard or smelled a vampire in the forest. I'd waited… Waited for him to come back; waited for him to tell me that he didn't want me; waited for him to kiss me again.

Waited two days for him to call. But he hadn't. The morning after the kiss, I had gone back to school, but I had seen and heard very little of my classes. My friends were concerned, but I ignored them. Now, however, it was Thursday morning. Two days had passed. Quil hadn't talked to me in days and I was done. I had nothing else to fight for. Nothing else to fight with. Everything that I had ever dreamed about had been drained from me in an instant.

I was supposed to be getting up and getting ready for school. I was supposed to be in something _other_ than my ratty old sweatpants and sports bra. I was supposed to have gone running. And all I could do was sit in my bed and pray that something would come and eat me alive. "Claire, you need to come eat breakfast," my mother called through the bedroom door. I refused to move. Chance had been trying to talk me into motion for days, but I hadn't given in. This was _not_ what an imprint was supposed to feel like. I was supposed to feel happy, loved, safe. Everything that I had always felt. Instead, I felt rejected.

"Claire?" my mother called again. I head the door opening. I even told myself to move or to reply, to tell her that I was fine. But I didn't. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" she asked me. Her weight settled on the mattress, stretching out alongside me and propping herself on her elbow. "You've been moping around the house for two days. Your father is getting a little worried."

"I'm sick," I lied. Her hand reached out to touch my forehead and check for a fever. Of course, there wasn't one.

She didn't say anything more. Only stared at me and waited for me to confess whatever was on my mind. "I kissed Quil the other day, Mama," I whispered, hoping that saying it softly would make the confession less real. "On the front porch…at two in the morning." Her eyes were open wide. I could see a lecture forming in her eyes, so I pressed on before she could yell at me. "I couldn't sleep because I kept thinking."

"Well, that's a dangerous past time for anyone," my mother teased.

"I called him and asked him to come over and then I kissed him," I continued. "And we were kissing and I was…Mama, I was so happy. For a few minutes, I was _so_ happy. And then he left. He didn't just _leave_. He jumped away from me and he ran. Mama, he ran from me."

"He was probably confused, sweetie. It happens sometimes. The two of you have been best friends forever," my mother said, patting my shoulder.

"He hasn't called me in two days," I sobbed, burying my face in the pillows. I heard my mother calling me _Miss Mouse_ as she tugged me into her lap. "I've never gone this long without talking to him, Mom. He hated it when I kissed him. That's why he left. He didn't want me to come near him. I did everything that I shouldn't have done. I should've just waited. I should've just kept waiting for him to decide what he wanted to do with me. Instead, I pushed him. And I shoved him away." She hushed me and leaned down over me, her hair brushing my shoulders and waist as she kissed my temple and rocked me back and forth. "I don't feel well, Mama."  
>"I know you don't, baby," she replied. "You know, when Quil, his grandfather, and Billy Black came over to explain imprinting to me, I was a little excited. I was mostly terrified and worried that the boy was a pedophile. But there was a little part of me that was excited that you would never have to go through a heartbreak. I wasn't sure how it would work out, but I knew that Quil would always be there for you." She sighed heavily and tightened her arms around me. "We could go and have him gelded," she suggested.<p>

I sniffled and rolled my head to look up at her. "I don't think that will really help," I told her with another sniffle. "I still love him, Mama. It just sucks that he will never love me."

"There's nothing that says that he will never love you, Claire," my mother said. "Did you ever stop to consider that maybe you just startled him? He might not have been thinking that you would kiss him. You said that he kissed you back. That's a good sign, Miss Mouse. You've known Claire since you were a child, a _toddler_. He might be going through the same thing that your father and I go through."

"I don't understand what that means," I mumbled.

"You've been my little Miss Mouse since you were born, Claire. All of the sudden, I woke up one morning and you were fifteen. You were wearing bras and complaining about the brand of tampons that I was buying. And you wanted Quil to kiss you. It's a bitter pill for a parent to swallow. I think that, maybe, Quil had to watch you grow up. He helped you learn to talk. He helped us potty train you. He did a great job, Claire. And now, you're seventeen. You're throwing yourself into his arms. You _kissed _him."

"And he was supposed to fall as in love with me as I am with him," I said. "Mom, this sucks."

"I know, Mouse." She squeezed me tight and kissed my cheek again before stretching out and pulling me beside her. I pressed my cheek into her chest and let her wrap her arms tight around me. "What about this? I'll call in sick to work. I'll make sure that you're excused from school. And then you and I will go get ice cream, and make those weird do-it-yourself avocado masks, and paint each others' toes. We'll plot a couple of Quil's murders, make plans for how you can properly seduce him, and…I don't know. Gorge ourselves on chocolate and ice cream and lattes and anything else that you want."

"Anything else that I want?" I asked her, not quite believing her. I narrowed my eye as I looked up at her.

"Only if you put on a real shirt. I'll take you out into the town looking like you should be dead, but I won't take you out so that every boy in town can see how beautiful you are," she insisted. "It'll be exciting," she promised me.

"Exciting? My first rejection will be exciting?" I asked her.

"It's not often that you come to talk to me anymore," my mother said. "After you turned nine, you stopped coming to me to talk about things. You spoke to Quil about the girls at school. You came to him when you had an 'ow-ie' that needed to be kissed better. You wanted his hugs when you were sad. For a while, I felt like I was being replaced. Worse. I was being replaced by a _teenage_ boy." I smiled at her. She kissed my forehead again. "We'll figure this out, Claire. A girl's day will make everything all better."


	9. Chapter VIII

**Author's Note: Official schedule is up tonight. I hope that you all enjoy! Oh, and I'm thinking about adding my stories to Wattpad, so if you could take time to review and let me know what you'd think of that, I'd appreciate it. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter VIII<strong>

True to her word, my mother let me play hooky from school and gave me, what could only be termed, the most _glorious_ girls' day that had ever existed. She had let me mope around in bed all morning, leaving me to be a wreck in peace. While I sat on the bed, trying to figure out where I'd gone wrong with Quil, my mother went out and bought the biggest jar of Nutella that I had ever seen, every ice cream made by Ben & Jerry's that contained the word _chocolate_ in the description, and turned on any episode to _Real Housewives_ that was on T.V.

I never made it into a real shirt; the best that I could do was my mother's off-the-shoulder sweater that was affectionately called her "Flashdance Sweater." We lounged out on the sectional couch, my mother's legs stretched out in front of her. I cupped my chocolate ice cream to my chest, used her thigh as my pillows, and yelled at the women on the television for their stupid behavior. And when she declared that _Real Housewives_ was going to kill her, we turned on _Dance Moms_.

My mother forced me to go to school the next day. And then to figure skating practice. She even came with me running because she knew that I wouldn't get out of bed otherwise. By the time that Sunday came up, I was fairly certain that Quil wasn't going to come up for Sunday dinner. In fact, there was a part of my brain that was telling me it would be _welcome_ for Quil not to come over. Then I felt the now familiar hanging in my heart that told me he'd been away for too long.

Sunday morning, I ran, went to training, worked until I was fairly certain that I wouldn't be able to move when I got home. The drive home was a test of not only my endurance, but my ability to stay awake while driving. I practically crawled up the stairs and into the shower, wishing that I was a little kid again. It was socially acceptable for children to climb onto a couch and fall asleep while the rest of the world went on around them. At seventeen, however, I was expected to me awake and present when Quil, his great-grandfather, my parents, my brother, whatever girl my brother had dragged over for Sunday dinner, and my grandfather.

Essentially, I was in for a night of…family. I suppose there isn't a better way to describe it. My brother would spend the entire day flirting with the girl that he'd brought home. It did take him two weeks to decide whether or not a girl was worth bringing home, but it didn't stop him from dragging someone home nearly every week. Papa Quil, Quil's great-grandfather, and my PawPaw Young spent the majority of their time arguing with each other, agreeing that the younger generation was ruining the world. My parents tended to be a little ridiculously in love with each other. They always said that they didn't have money and they didn't have the best house, but they had each other.

Usually, Quil and I would spend the night talking, watching sports, throwing popcorn or whatever other finger food my mother had made at one another. I wasn't entirely sure what tonight was going to be like, though. I had been so foolish. I shouldn't have kissed him. My mother had always said that patience was a virtue. A virtue that I lacked.

"How you doing, kiddo?" my father asked, dropping down alongside me on the couch. His arm stretched out along the back of the sofa, curling around my shoulders and tugging me into his side. My parents were far from perfect, but there was one thing that I was grateful for. My parents had always been supportive of me and Quil when most parents would have freaked out. As my mother had said, she had been a little afraid of what imprinting would mean, but she knew that Quil would be the person for me…for the rest of my life.

"I'm fine, Dad," I promised, though it didn't stop me from snuggling into his arms. I was a fortunate girl. I'd never had the problems that were typical to most teenagers. I'd never once _hated_ my parents, or thought that they were trying to ruin my lives. My PawPaw, on the other hand…Well, I think that he took joy in seeing how much he could mess up in a day.

"You know that I'm not all that good with the girl stuff, kid. Your mom said that she talked to you. I'm just—Look, if you want someone to run the boy over, I'd ben more than willing to do the job," he promised. I couldn't hold back the chuckle at my father's words. Most dads threatened to shoot the boy who broke their daughter's heart or threaten him…maybe beat him within an inch of his life. My father, however, knew that the only way to cause Quil any pain would be something grander. Sometimes, I think he took joy in plotting ways he thought would hurt my wolf if he needed to. "You just say the word, kiddo."

"I don't think that you'll need to hurt him," I assured, patting his chest placatingly. "I'm sure that things will work out between me and Quil. They always have."

"Do I even want to know what you two are fighting about?" he asked me.

"Didn't Mama tell you?"

"She said that I'd be happier if I didn't know anything. Ignorance is bliss." I chuckled at the comment, but stopped when I saw the front door open and Quil walk through. "Speak of the devil."

"You weren't talking about Quil, Daddy."

"No; I was talking about stupid. And _Stupid_ just walked through the door on two legs." He pushed off the couch and extended a hand to Quil. "How you doing, boy?" Quil made some polite response that I tried not to hear. I stared at the ground, my mother's shag carpeting that she would love to replace. I was fairly certain that nothing could be more embarrassing or awkward than this moment. Quil had always been my best friend and now, my desire to make things different than what they'd been had shoved him away from me. "I'll leave you two here to talk," my father said.

Subtlety had never been my father's strong suit. He even pointed at the empty couch beside me. Quil sank down easily, looking at the same point in the rug as I was. Neither one of us spoke, only stared while everyone started moving around us. Papa Quil and PawPaw were jabbering on about the president and what he'd said in his latest speech. My mother was humming to herself while standing over the steaming pot in front of her. My father had moved to stand behind her, his hands falling to her hips as he watched her cook. Chance hadn't come back yet. All in all, this was the ideal moment for Quil and I to speak frankly.

"You've been gone for a while," I murmured, not sure what else to say. "How have you been?"

"Fine." He paused, clenching and unclenching his fists. "How have you been? Training?"

"Good, good," I replied. I took another deep breath and gathered up all my courage. I had stood in front of vampires, told them that they weren't to hurt people that I cared about when I'd only been ten-years-old. If that little girl could do that, I could find the courage to talk to my wolf. He'd rejected me; put it wouldn't last for long. "What happened, Quil?" I breathed, turning my face to look at him.

Absently, I noted that his eyes darkened when my hair fell over my shoulder and tickled the tops of my thighs. "We were standing on the porch. You kissed me back, Quil. I know that you did," I breathed. Talking to my mother had made me see that. Quil had kissed me back. Everything that I'd worried about, though, had come to pass. Quil had enjoyed himself and was now, for some reason that I couldn't possibly explain, blaming himself for the kiss, for the entire thing. "What happened, Quil?

He sighed heavily and looked over at me as well. "I'm so sorry, Claire. I'm sorry that I pushed you too far. I'm sorry that I acted the way that I did. I'm sorry that I couldn't control myself. But more than anything, Claire, I'm sorry that I stayed away. That wasn't fair…to either of us. I should've come and talk to you. I was just worried that if I did, I wouldn't be able to stop myself," he admitted in his soft husky voice. How many memories did I have of that voice singing me to sleep?

"Stop yourself from what, Quil?"

"From kissing you again."


	10. Chapter IX

**Author's Note: I know that it's been a few days, guys. I'm super sorry. I had exams Thursday evening and then got called into work (one of the waitresses got sick). Then it was Halloween weekend (which is not the night you want to be working in a bar) and then it was Sunday, which is all about football and sports in the bar I'm in. Anyways, today is catch-up day. Below, is the schedule for updates this week so you guys know what to expect during the week.**

**SCHEDULE 11/03-11/08****  
>Monday: Chapter IX<br>Wednesday: Chapter X  
>Friday: Chapter XI<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter IX<strong>

It was one of those moments when I felt like my heart was going to beat right out of my chest. How long had I waited for those words? Sure, it wasn't _I love you_, but Quil was at least admitting that he wanted to kiss me. My fingers curled in my lap while my brain struggled to figure out what my next statement should be. A part of my brain said that I should tell him it was no big deal, that I had made a mistake, and that I would wait for him.

The other part of my brain screamed at me, told me that I needed to grasp this chance at happiness. Quil had admitted that he cared about me, that he wanted to kiss me. This was my opportunity… And I would be a fool to waste it. "So why don't you?" I managed in the softest voice possible. Quil's gaze jerked up from his lap, meeting mine with a shocked kind of torture I couldn't even describe. "I think that maybe we should go for a walk after dinner," I whispered when he remained silent.

Everything in my relationship with Quil had been about what he thought was the best for me. The shocked, terrified, and somewhat comical, look on his face said that he didn't quite know how he was supposed to react to my question. He gave a hesitant nod, though, to my suggestion that we take a walk. It would only help us clear everything out of our brains. Dinner would be the longest of my life, but I would eventually be able to figure things out between us and that was the most important thing.

My mother's quinoa and vegetable salad, served with enough meat to feed the entire Reservation, was plenty to fill me up. My brother and Quil both ate enough for multiple people, although Chance had long since learned not to challenge Quil to an eating contest. Chance's little date was staring at my brother and wolf like they were about to attack her. I suppose it was understandable. After all, my brother and Quil were devouring meat like they hadn't eaten in ages. The only thing that could have made them look more primitive was if they'd roasted the whole animal on a spit over an open fire. "Who's doing dishes tonight?" my father called.

"Not it!" I screamed before Chance even had the opportunity to open his mouth. He glared at me from across the table. With the girl in the house, I was sure that Chance probably wanted a moment alone with the girl that he'd brought. My brother had a nearly systematic evaluation system of women. He dated them for two weeks, brought them home, introduced them to the family, and then questioned them about their thoughts and feelings. Any who didn't fit the bill were dismissed in the most polite way that my brother knew how to dismiss them.

Quil and I usually did the dishes and remained relatively silent about having to do the chore. I made Chance pick up a few of my other chores in exchange. It was rare that I insisted on _not_ doing the dishes. Chance's eyes narrowed as he looked at me over the table, his head cocked to the side in obvious question. "Quil and I are going for a walk," I announced boldly, smiling at him. _I owe you,_ I added wordlessly. His eyes rolled for a second, but he nodded and waved me away easily enough. "Let's go; before he changes his mind," I whispered to the wolf at my side.

The sound of the crickets singing in the evening air was the only friend that I had in the darkness. Quil was keeping himself at a firm distance away from me, looking down at the dirt in front of us. He wasn't speaking, wasn't really doing much but breathing. "I thought we were going on this walk to talk," I whispered, growing tired of sitting there and listening to him breathe. I needed to know what was going through his head and I needed to know now.

"I'm pretty sure that was your idea," he replied just a softly, his gaze still fixed in front of him.

"Oh." I swallowed, worried that I may have misread the situation. Again. Maybe I was just trying to make this what I wanted it to be. "I thought that you might want to talk things out. We've never gone so long without talking when it wasn't forced on us. I just assumed that you wanted to…well, you know, to figure things out and—"

"I do want to," he interrupted. His hand settled on my shoulder and gently pulled me to a stop. "If I am making you think that I don't want to be here, Claire, I'm sorry. God, I'm just messing everything up." He took a deep breath and stepped in front of me. "I don't know how to do anything of this and every time that I try I'm messing it up." He pulled away from me, pacing a small strip in the dirt in front of me. "Okay, we need to find a different way to go about this. I can't do it. I just—Damn, Claire, I don't even—"

"How was your day?" I asked him in a soft voice, interrupting his nonsensical rampage. "What?" he balked, his eyes narrowed and eyebrows drawn together.

"You said that you're screwing everything up and you don't know how to fix it," I said, stepping closer to his chest. "I need this to be fixed, Quil. I can't keep going like this. You haven't talked to me in two days. So, we're going to start where we're comfortable. How was your day?" I could see the confusion in his eyes as he looked at me. "Obviously I suck at this. Let me try again. Today was kind of boring. My mom was worried that I was going to wake up and go running on my own, so she went running with me. I can't remember the last time that I ran so slowly, but Mom's not exactly used to it. Then I went to training. You should see this new jump Coach is having me try. It's driving me absolutely crazy. All that seems to happen is that I fall on my ass and eat ice," I said, struggling to act like nothing was different about this conversation. Quil wanted to be back on normal footing; this was our normal footing. "How was patrol?"

"Great," he said slowly. "There was a nomad that came through, but it was nothing too serious. Nothing that I couldn't handle on my own."

"How long have you been on patrol?" I asked, already guessing the answer.

"Oh, you know. Not very long. I mean, only since the night you kissed—the night that we kissed," he amended. "You're right, Claire. I did kiss you back. I want to be sorry about it; I enjoyed every single moment of that kiss and I know that I shouldn't have."

"You shouldn't have?"

"Claire, you were so freaked out and you wouldn't calm down. Then you lunged at me and I should have pushed you away, should've made you tell what was wrong. Instead, I took advantage of you. God, Claire, it took everything in me not to…even now… I'm an ass, Claire. That's why I couldn't bring myself to talk to you, Claire. It's why I didn't call you and why I tried to keep you away from me. I couldn't—I couldn't even blame you for being angry at me."

"What gave you the idea that I was angry? Maybe you missed the part where I quite literally threw myself into your lap," I said, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him to a stop. "That night didn't have anything to do with you or a nightmare or a freaking nightmare about you. Where you got _that_ idea, I'm not exactly sure," I added in a growl. "That night had to do with me realizing that I couldn't wait forever, Quil. All of our friends are moving on with their lives, have kids and families. You've been stuck waiting for me to grow up. I'm not a three-year-old anymore."

"Trust me, I know," he groaned.

"So, let's just sum this up real quick. I thought that you stayed away because you regretted kissing me. You stayed away because you thought that you took advantage of me. But you actually _liked_ kissing me and I just wanted to kiss you," I whispered. Quil stepped up in front of me, his chest crowding into my space. My heart rate jumped to a mile a minute at the sweet smell of him standing so damn close to me. My fingers curled into my palms, fighting the sudden urge to wrap themselves into his t-shirt. "And you…you wanted to kiss me…again?"

"More than I want my next breath of air," he said, his hands coming to rest on my back, splayed out over my spine. I could feel him coming even closer, one hand leaving my back to run his rough knuckles along my cheekbone. I was practically panting, struggling to gain that next breath he'd been talking about. Especially when I could feel his mouth getting closer and closer to mine. He stilled but a scant inch away from me and growled, shoving me behind him. "Leech."


	11. Chapter X

**Author's Note: I know that it's really late at night, but here's the next chapter for everyone. I hope you all enjoy! Oh, and please leave your predictions as reviews. I love reading them. Enjoy!**

**Chapter X: ****_Quil's Point of View_**

"Let's just sum this up real quick. I thought that you stayed away because you regretted kissing me." As if I would ever _regret_ that moment. She'd been a perfect fit, a joy to hold against my chest. "You stayed away because you thought that you took advantage of me. But you actually _liked_ kissing me and I just wanted to kiss you." She wanted to kiss me? My heart thundered as I contemplated that possibility. Maybe I'd just been too stubborn to see what she was offering me.

I stepped closer to her, my arms crossed over my chest as I looked at her. Her heart was beating just as hard as mine, her breath rushing from her lungs. "And you…you wanted to kiss me…again?" I watched the goosebumps pucker her skin, each racing to reach her wrist before the other.

"More than I want my next breath of air," I replied, finally allowing my arms to reach around her and enclose her in my embrace. More than I wanted anything in this world. Her shirt was thin enough that I could feel the heat of her coming through the fabric. She was leaning towards me, her body beckoning to me. God, I couldn't believe that this was happening. I had been waiting for this moment for years, telling myself that one day it would happen and I just had to be patient and wait for her. She felt so good against my chest again, her curves fitting perfectly against my body.

The sick, sweet smell made me want to vomit for a moment, my stomach rebelling against the stench. "Leech," I growled, my senses sharpening in an instant. No wonder the guys didn't like their imprints around when they needed to be on patrol. Claire had taken every single one of my senses and twisted them up. I was pretty sure that I wouldn't have been able to smell a leech standing in front of us if I'd actually kissed her.

I shoved Claire behind me, keeping one arm wrapped around her waist to keep her anchored to me. "If you move from this spot, Claire, you will be in so much trouble," I snarled at her when I felt her tiny hands come up to my back and twine themselves in the fabric of my shirt.

The parasite in question stepped from the trees, his eyes the color of rubies and skin the color of ice as he walked towards us. "You have three seconds to get away from here," I warned. Everything in me was screaming at me to go and get the vampire, to drag him as far away from my imprint as possible, but Claire was more important to me. I would let this thing go away, get out of my grasp, if it meant that Claire could be safe. "And if I can still smell you after three seconds, you're dead."

"But she smells delicious," the monster said, his voice musical and soft. "And I've never had mongrel before." He cocked his head to the side, his leather jacket squeaking against itself as he moved closer. "It's like _Lady and the Tramp_, don't you agree? Although, that story is sometimes more like _Westside Story, _in my opinion. Either way, the two of you are quite an interesting pair. She's such a sweet smelling thing."

"I'm warning you," I growled again.

"Quil," Claire breathed, her breath hitting the back of my neck as she clung tighter to me. She was terrified. I could smell it on her skin. Claire had been kidnapped when she'd barely been in her double digits. The entire ordeal had left her fairly scarred, though she would never admit it. The few encounters that we'd had with vampires afterwards, Claire had always clung to me. I could feel her breathing getting faster and faster, her hands tightening with every step the vampires took towards us. "Quil."

"Sh, Claire; everything is going to be just fine," I promised her softly. "Just stand there and wait. Okay?" She nodded, pressing her cheek between my shoulder blades. I could feel the sting of her tears through the fabric of my shirt as she sobbed. All I had wanted to do was kiss my imprint. Was this really such a difficult thing to allow? All of my friends were married, had kids, had families. It was just like Claire had said. We had waited long enough for our lives to begin. "Your kind are not welcome on these lands. You need to leave before you find yourself dead. I'm not the only one of my kind."

"Yes, but she's _not _of your kind, which I find a little interesting," the parasite was saying. I growled and took a step closer to the thing, but Claire let out a quiet screech and stepped closer to me. "Claire, was it? It's a very old name. In fact, my grandmother's name was Claire. I'm sure that she would be turning over in her grave if she knew that someone of her namesake had become the mate of a mutt like this," he said, jabbing a finger at me.

"Claire, I need you to trust me," I whispered to her, turning my head the slightest bit so that she would hear me better. "Do you trust me?" I felt her nod against my spine and knew that I had to act.

I let go of her for a brief moment, turned, wrapped both arms around her waist and hauled into the air at the same time that I started sprinting. I heard her gasp in shock as she was thrown into the old treehouse that I'd built for her when she'd been six. It would protect her from the vampire, but it gave me somewhere to put her while I phased and went to work on the parasite. "Stay in this treehouse. You move…" I didn't even bother giving her threats this time. She would know exactly what I would do to her if she didn't stay there.

I phased and turned around to look at the man turned monster crouched before me. "I agree; you should put her somewhere where she can't get out and you can't get up there, can you wolf-boy? Meanwhile, I am more than capable of getting into your little mate." Why he wanted Claire, I wasn't entirely sure. I was sure of one thing, though: he was going to die.

He lunged for me, his long fingers stretched out like claws. I swallowed convulsively, the growl building in my throat in the moment before I lunged at him and locked my jaws around his wrist. I relished the screech of shocked pain that he gave when I brought him down, glad to know that Claire would be mostly safe. Tossing him as far as way from Claire as possible, I let out the loudest howl that I could. Most of the guys didn't phase anymore, as their wives had started to age and most of them had at least one child. But they would come running if they heard that I needed them.

The strangest part of our Pack was the fact that our entire Pack had ended up imprinting. It was something that had never been heard of before. Some of the elders had felt that it weakened our Pack, that we were so focused on our imprints and their protection that we didn't concern ourselves as much with the protection of our tribe. But I think the entire Pack could agree that it was the exact opposite. Any kind of attack against the tribe or the people of Forks was a direct threat to our imprints. We weren't simply fighting because we were chosen warriors. We were fighting for the woman, and Nate, that we loved.

The parasite reached back for me, grabbing front leg between his hands. I felt the bones snapping, but couldn't stop fighting. If I stopped fighting, he would get to Claire. I wouldn't let her be taken again. I made that promise to her almost seven years ago. She wouldn't have to go through that again. I grasped his shoulder in my jaws and threw him away from me again, lurching forward to lock neck between my teeth. The granite skin began to shatter and shrivel inside of my mouth, the taste repulsive but the knowledge that I would be killing him so damn sweet, it was worth it.

"I'll kill her," he warned me. Why the hell did he want Claire? She was nothing to any vampire. She was everything to me, everything to her family, vital to the Pack. But she was useless to a vampire. "Let me go and she'll live. But I'll kill her." I growled and tightened my jaw, feeling my teeth pierce through more flesh. "I'll tell you what you want to know," he said suddenly. "Your mate's in danger. You kill me, you'll never get that information."

_I'll have to take that risk,_ I thought to myself, clenching my teeth together so that they interlocked and feeling his head separate from his shoulders. His scream cut off abruptly as he lost the ability to scream and I threw him aside.

He thought that I needed the information that he was tempting me with, but he was wrong. He already told me what I needed to know: Claire was in danger.


	12. Chapter XI

**Author's Note: I know that it's late, but work is killing me tonight. But, be prepared for tomorrow. I have a day off and I should be able to crank out some chapters (and maybe a new story). Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter XI<strong>

I knew that Quil would never let me get hurt, but every single time that we came face to face with a vampire…My heart stopped beating and the blood stopped running to my head. Carlisle Cullen had once called it PTSD, no matter how much I argued with him. PTSD was for people who had been in serious trauma, like veterans who'd been victims of IEDs. I had been kidnapped when I was a little kid. Nothing bad ever happened to me. It wasn't even like I had been seriously hurt. But every single time that Quil faced one of those parasites or, the few times that I could actually see one, I couldn't—I couldn't do anything.

Every ounce of strength that I had, all the courage in my body had fled the moment I had laid eyes on the parasite. And Quil had only been seconds from kissing me. Why did vampires have to ruin my life? Quil had thrown me into the old treehouse rather roughly, but that was all that it had taken to shake my from paralysis. I clutched at the windowsill and leaned out of the window.

Quil had phased, crouched in all his glory less than ten feet from the base of the tree. For all they said vampires were fast, I knew that the wolves were faster. The vampire would never get passed Quil, not while he was breathing. In the meantime, I got to sit in the treehouse and watch as Quil was in danger of losing his life. I couldn't hear what was being said, but my heart clenched when I saw Quil leap for the monster. His teeth were each as long as my finger.

I heard the crunch of bones as his jaw locked around the vampire's wrist, the white skin flaking like shaves of granite. Quil's growls reverberated over and over again, growing louder and louder. I watched him step away and lunge again. This time, my wolf closed his mouth around his throat and jerked the vampires head from its shoulder. The blood curdling scream cut off. Quil tossed the head aside and phased out, jogging out of view. I assumed he went in search of some of the clothing he hid around the forest.

"Quil!" I shouted, seeing pieces of the parasite's anatomy trying to bring themselves back together. "Quil! He's—"

"Are you okay?" he asked, his feet spraying sand behind him as he sprinted into view again. His shorts were hanging loosely around his hips and he was still holding the shirt in his hands. "Claire?" he shouted, standing at the foot of the tree and shouting at me.

"I'm fine; but he's doing that reassembly thing," I murmured.

"It's okay. I'm back. I'll take care of it. Just wait a few minutes," he assured me. I watched him gather the pieces and dig through his pockets for the lighter that he always carried with him. The fire blazed instantly, the smell of burning hair tainting the air. The fire crackled and sizzled, but the noise quickly became background noise. I heard Quil's feet on the ladder as he clambered up and into the base of the treehouse. I knew a moment of fear, worried that the treehouse wouldn't hold our combined weight. Quil didn't seem to care, though. He rushed across the small space and grabbed me in his arms, crushing me against his chest. "Are you okay? You hurt?" His hands were searching my ribs and arms as he spoke, checking for bruises or breaks.

"I was tossed about a little roughly, but I'm fine," I promised him, resting one hand on his chest and cuddling myself against his chest. "I'm sorry that I freaked out so much," I added. He chuckled and held me a little tighter. I heard him taking deep breaths, felt his nose pressed against my hair as he clung to me. "Are you okay? Is everything all right? Did you get hurt?" I ran my arms over his torso, feeling the bare skin against my palms. He shuddered a little at the contact and nodded against me. "Are you sure?"

"I have to get you back to my Reservation," he replied, pulling away from me. "Come on; let's get you back to the house. You need to pack a few days' worth of clothes. I'm going to talk to your parents." He made it sound like I didn't have a choice in the world, like he was making all the decisions.

"Wait a second, Quil," I said, pulling all my weight against his hand to make sure that he stopped. "Wait! What happened? Why do we have to go back to the Quileute Reservation? I'm plenty safe here on Makah."

"Not anymore. Claire, I don't have time to argue with you. I will explain everything once we get back to the Rez." He didn't even give me another chance to argue with him. He practically shoved me down the ladder and only waited a moment or two before sweeping me up in his arms and carrying me back to the house. "Upstairs. Go back a bag." I hesitated, wanting to know what he was going to tell my parents. "Now, Claire!" he barked.

I balked at the command and stumbled up the stairs, my eyes wide and confused. Quil _never_ spoke to me that way unless something was seriously wrong. The only other times that he had yelled at me like that had been during the Newborn War and again during the Volturi Confrontation. The few times that something had been coming after us and I had wanted to go outside or be alone. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. And all I could now was pull out my duffle bag and pack away the things that I would need for two weeks of being away. Especially since I didn't know what was happening or how long that I was going to be gone.

"Are you ready?" I heard behind me as I was throwing my practice skates on top of the bag. Quil was leaning against the doorway, tension radiating off of him as he waited.

"You know that I'll always listen to you, Quil and you know that I trust you with my life, but I will not leave this house until you tell me what is going on," I said stubbornly, sitting down on top of my bed and glaring a warning at him. I wasn't a toddler anymore. Quil could easily pick me up and carry me back to the Reservation, but it wasn't like it used to be. When I was a kid, I would get over the frustration of being bonded with an overprotective, overbearing, interfering wolf. I only needed an hour to pout or yell and then I was finished and we could move on. Now, I was seventeen. I deserved to know what was going on and I deserved to make my own decisions regarding my safety.

"Claire, I really don't have time to argue with you about this. Your parents have agreed that this is the best course of action. We can talk—"

"We can talk now," I declared. "We've both agreed that I'm not a child anymore and you're not going to treat me like one. If this is going to hurt my family or our friends or…or you!"

"What do you think I'm trying to prevent?" he snarled. "I'm trying to get you away from your family so that they'll be safe. We're going to my great-grandparents' cabin in the woods so that we're not too close to the Pack and their families. I am trying to avoid all of these risks, Claire, and you're making it more difficult by refusing to cooperate. You want answers? Here they are: that vampire told me that something is coming after you, some_one_ is coming after you. I don't know if it's you or all the imprints or something else entirely, but I know this: I am not risking your life again. Now, get downstairs, kiss your parents goodbye, and then you will get on my back and I will take you back to the Rez."

Much as I despised being told what I was doing and what was going to happen to me, without my input being at all considered, I could see the validation in what Quil was saying. We needed to be somewhere where I would be safe, our families would be safe, and we could sort the problems with the vampires. He stepped up close to me, like he had before the vampire had shown up. His hands sought my waist, gripping me lightly as he leaned down to make sure I couldn't look away from him. "I will not let anything hurt you again, not like what happened when you were ten, at least. I may not be able to protect you from the bruises or scrapes you get on the ice, but I can and _will_ protect you from this. Do you trust me?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes at the question. "With my life," I promised. And my soul. And my family. And my heart. "When we get to the cabin, though, you owe me a lot more explanations."

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><p><strong>Author's Note Cont.: It's voting time. I have two separate ideas for new stories in my head and I'm giving you guys the chance to choose. Would you rather see a story for <strong>**_Les Miserables_**** (if things had been changed around a bit) or would you rather see a story for BBC One's ****_Merlin_****? Votes need to be in by Sunday. So, review or PM. Let me know your thoughts. Enjoy!**


	13. Chapter XII

**Author's Note: I hope that you all are continuing to enjoy this story. For those who voted and are interested, my newest story ****_Magic, Mischief, and Maids _****has been posted. It's an alternate universe story based on BBC One's series, ****_Merlin_****. I hope you all will read and review. This week's schedule has been posted to my profile, but you'll find the exact dates of updates below. **

**Schedule  
>Monday: Chapter XII<br>Wednesday: Chapter XIII  
>Friday: Chapter XIV<strong>

**Please do not forget that Sunday exists as a catch-up day for me to make sure that I have all of the chapters promised to you posted in a week. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter XII<strong>

I stared around the little cabin that Quil had brought me to. The cabin was one of my favorite places in the world to go. Nestled in the forest, away from the rest of the world, I was safe. When I'd been young, Quil used to bring me out to the cabin whenever he suspected that I was in a bad mood. It was the place that I felt safe, where I felt like nothing could touch me. It would make sense that he would bring me here when he'd received news that obviously upset him.

Of course, I still didn't know what that news was. I had packed my bag and said goodbye to my parents, trying to ignore the tears in my mother's eyes. I had texted Jenna to let her know that I wouldn't be home for the week. I lied and told her that I was in a training intensive week, but I knew it was what she would believe. Jenna was a swimming and diving prodigy at the school. She knew what I was working for, knew how hard I had worked for what little recognition I got in the world of skating.

Quil had phased while I was say goodbye to my parents and Chance, waiting for me in the little clearing in the woods, just beyond my parents' house. While most of the imprints had to figure out how to get atop their wolves, how to balance, it was as natural to me as breathing. I'd slung my duffle over my shoulders, making sure that it would line up with my hips when I was straddling Quil's broad back. He'd run as fast as possible, sprinting back to the cabin in the woods, where he unceremoniously dumped me at the door and left.

I could hear him running in the woods, only when he neared the cabin. I was sure that he did so to make sure I was still sitting there, waiting for him to come back into the little cottage. The barely audible crunch of leaves beneath his paws was like the sound of a cracking whip. For three hours, I had sat in the house, awaiting a return that never came.

At first, I'd ignored it. I could only recall one other time that I'd ever seen Quil so agitated and that had been when he'd brought me back from my kidnapping. I cleaned the house, which hadn't been touched in nearly five months. Dust covered every single surface in the small area, including the small number of dishes. I washed them all by hand and set them into the stainless steel rack to dry. I'd changed all the linens into the clean ones that Quil had insisted he bring. Smelling the musty scent on the ones on the bed, I saw why he was so eager to change them out. I continued about, finding chore after menial chore to complete in order to occupy my time.

Three hours later, a clean house, and freshly made up bed later, I sat on the sofa with a textbook in hand. I had yet to get any of my assigned reading finished, though; regardless of how much I stared at the pages of the book. Quil had yet to return. The crunch of the leaves was the only sign that he was even around the cottage. Of course, I never doubted that. I was only questioning how long it would take for him to get his butt back into the house.

When the sun set, though, and swallowed the cabin into darkness, I'd had enough of this waiting. The cottage was old, having been built after the first settlers had come to the land. Quil's family had improved on it over the years, but there was one thing they'd never done. They'd never put electricity into the house. I lit each of the oil-burning lanterns and the candles throughout the house, taking the matches with me out onto the porch to light the candles there. "Quil!" I shouted into the darkness. "We made a deal. I came with you and you are supposed to answer my questions."

I was met with the music of crickets, the sound banging against my ears. "Fine; you don't want to answer me, then I'll leave," I said. "I know the way back home well enough. I'll get there one way or another."

The crunch of branches and huffing of a man's breath met her less than ten feet from the porch. "Are you crazy?" he screeched. "There are vampires that are after you. I don't have time for some great battle of wills, Claire. I am trying to protect you, trying to save your life."

"Maybe I could help you with it if I knew what was going on. I let you be in charge of me and…and bully me to this cottage because I believed that you would give me answers when we got here. I was willing to let you be firm with me, Quil, and boss me around. But I am not some meek little child." I strode straight to him, ignoring the way his skin gleamed in the moonlight. "I want answers," I snarled, jabbing him in the chest with on my long, shaped nails. "And if you," I poked him again, "will not give them to me, then I'll leave."

"You're right," he whispered, his voice soft as the wind. He reached up and covered my hand with his, flattening my fingers until my palm rested fully against his skin. "I made you a promise and I never go back on my word. Not with you." He smiled down at me, wrapping his free arm around my waist. "If I tell you that I'm starving, what exactly would your response be?" he asked. My mother was famous on the Makah reservation for her cooking, a skill in which I had been trained from the time that I was young.

"I'd tell you that I wouldn't be able to fix that. Some stupid Spirit Warrior whisked us away to a cabin in the middle of the woods without electricity, firewood, or food," I retorted. "But I could be tempted to go to the grocery store and get ingredients to make beef stew if I got a few answers first."

"Deal. Now, let's get into the cabin. You'll catch your death out here," he said, glaring at the sky could make the cold disappear. "The vampire that I killed didn't give me much to go on, Claire. He simply said that he was there to kill you. I was gone so long because I was meeting with the rest of the guys. I wanted to know if any of the guys had heard anything or any of their imprints had been threatened too."

"Oh, God, Quil; the kids." I felt my heart stutter at the thought of all the innocent little ones who would be hurt.

"No; as far as any of the guys know, you're the only one to be threatened," Qui replied. I could see how that frustrated him. Though Quil would never prefer that someone else be hurt, I knew that it was bothering him that I be the only target in this scheme. "I've been thinking about it nonstop, Claire. I can't figure out why a vampire would come after _you_. I mean, no offense, but you're just a human."

"Which means that you have a theory as to why I would be the target," I sighed.

"Well, I have two. It could be some kind of revenge for the vampire that we killed when you were kidnapped," he said, his head nodding back and forth like he wasn't sure.

"Except that it's been years since I was kidnapped. It seems like an awfully long time to wait in order to get some revenge," I muttered, already writing out a list of the things that we would need.

"Jake thought the same thing, which is why I went and talked to Roxie for a few minutes. Roxie made a deal with a vampire in order to save her father. She knows vampires almost as well as the Cullens themselves. She pointed out to me that vampires don't feel time like do. Because they never die, decades pass like minutes, years like seconds. It wouldn't have seemed like any time at all to wait a few years to take their revenge," he explained.

"Still; it seems unlikely that they'd come back for me, Quil. After all, I didn't kill the vampire." I didn't want to sound like I was blaming the wolves. I most certainly wasn't. It just didn't make sense that I was being hunted.

"Which is why I think that you're supposed to be a lure for me or one of the other guys. The vampire didn't say that you were in danger. He specifically said that _my mate_ was in danger. I don't think that they're after you; I think that they're after me. We just don't know why," he explained. I opened my mouth again, determined to ask him what he _thought_ the reasons would be, when he cut me off. "I'm starving. If you're not careful, my brain will stop functioning and then I won't be able to answer any of your questions."

"Fine, fine. We'll get you your food," I muttered dismissively.

I pushed to me feet, ripping the list from the pad of paper and following him towards the door step. "Oh, wait. One more thing," he said, turning around and hauling me to his chest. "I was interrupted," he breathed in the instant before his lips touched down on mine.


	14. Chapter XIII

**Author's Note: Hey everyone. I know that it's a little late tonight, but there's work and school and blah blah blah. I hope you all enjoy.**

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><p><strong>Chapter XIII<strong>

One strong arm was wound around my waist. One hand was dug into my hair, his thumb just before my ear. My heart had stopped beating. I was sure f that because the moment that his lips touched down on mine, everything disappeared. There was no vampire that was bent on my destruction. There was no state championship that I was going to have to fight for. There was no supernatural life that Quil would have to combat. This moment, this boy…this was perfection. There was nothing else that existed except for this.

All too soon, the kiss ended. Quil's mouth gentled as he stepped away from me, but he couldn't quite release me. His lips pressed against mine a few more short times before they traveled to my cheeks, my forehead, and my nose. Ultimately, he lifted them from my skin though. His forehead pressed against mine, his breathing heavy. He struggled for control of himself, I could tell. But I was struggling just as much as he was. "That is what should have happened, Claire, before we were interrupted. This is what our lives should be, not the damn vampires that are still hunting you."

His stomach rumbled between the two of us, reminding me what we were supposed to be doing. "We should go and get you some food. Before you fall over and die from starvation," I mocked, linking my hand with his. His palm was rough and callused, the friction delicious as we walked. "How exactly are we getting to the store?" I asked, looking around the darkness of the forest. "I don't mind running, Quil, but I'm not in the mood to run miles carrying back grocery bags."

"Like you would carry anything," he snorted. "I've never made you carry anything and when you're feeling particularly indignant, you start verbally writing your feminist manifesto." He squeezed my hand as we neared a clearing that I knew of just ahead. "Jake brought my car over here. We're going to be staying here for a while, so we'll need to get enough food to last us a good while. Everyone is back on patrols for the next little while. Until we figure out what this threat is and who has ordered it done, everything is going to go back to the way that it used to be."

"But what about the imprints? What about their families, Quil?" I shook my head, thinking about the implications of putting everyone back on patrol. "Quil, I couldn't live with myself if something happened to anyone else. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you."

"Come on, Claire," he groaned. "Nothing is going to happen to anyone else. Besides, we used to protect everyone just fine. There are a lot of things that happened when you were a kid, Claire, that you don't remember. Vampire wars, new borns, Volturi. You were too young to really remember what happened, the number of times that imprints were threatened. We protected everyone. We'll do it again," he promised.

"It was different back then, Quil. We both know it. When I was a little, there was nothing for anyone to lose. The only people who were important were the imprints. It's different, now. There's kids now, Quil. What do you think it would do to Willy if his dad died? What do you think it would do to Ryanne if she lost her husband? She _just_ had a baby. Sarah would grow up without knowing her dad." I shook my head sadly. "It's way different."

"You're right," he agreed, opening the car door for me and waiting for me to climb into his old truck, waiting for him to join me. "Things are different now, Claire. The guys have families now, kids, wives, in-laws. I have a life that I'm ready to start with you. I'm not ready to give that up. The guys aren't ready to give up their kids and their families. It's different now because we have everything to lose and we'll fight _damn hard_ to make sure that we keep it." His fingers twisted the key in the ignition before he turned to look at me. His rough palms came up to my cheeks, cradling my face in his hands. "I will fight with every breath in my body to make sure that I don't lose _you_, Claire."

That was what I was afraid of. I was afraid that I was going to open my eyes and find that he was dead, that he'd given that breath for her, for her safety. The thought brought tears to my eyes, the idea that Quil was dead because of me. I couldn't breathe, couldn't find anything to help me get passed the anxiety.

I spent the rest of the drive in silence, struggling to contain the fear that was running through my body. It was stupid fear, especially since there was nothing wrong. Sure, I was being hunted by a vampire. Sure, Quil was going to put his life back on the line to protect me. Sure, he was asking all of our friends and family to do the same thing. But, at the moment, there was nothing particularly wrong. I didn't need to be prematurely freaking out about things that couldn't be changed, that wouldn't be changed until Quil accomplished whatever was on his mind.

Quil pulled into the parking lot and helped me from my spot, keeping me close against his side. "I can't remember the last time that you were silent during a drive, unless you were sleeping," he whispered. "Do you want to talk about it? Or would you prefer to continue silently brooding over there?"

"I just don't want anyone to get hurt," I replied softly. "I don't want the imprints or the kids or any of the wolves to come to harm, Quil. And I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something did happen."

"Do you remember," he began, grabbing a cart and placing both of my hands on it, "when you were twelve? You started asking all of the girls what it was like to be an imprint during the New Born War."

"Right. I remember snippets. I remember being told that I couldn't leave Aunt Emily's house, but it hadn't been so bad for me. I'd had all the imprints there for me, to hang out and play. But I didn't know what was going on, or that all of my friends were moments away from getting killed. I knew that everyone was really worried about things, that there was definitely something going on. But I knew nothing and I just…I wanted to know what it felt like then, to realize that the men, and Leah, that you loved were in such danger."

"That time in our lives has been over for a while, Claire, but history _always_ repeats itself. It's why war will never end. The Cullens came back; the Pack was born again. We fought with vampires. We won. They learned nothing, which is surprising considering how long they live. But nothing can ever stay quiet, Claire. It's not about surviving the storm or even learning to dance in the rain. It's about learning how to enjoy the calm between the storms. It's about finding the music in the thunder and the rain on the roof. We had a good, long time without pain, Claire. I got to watch you grow up. I got to watch you learn. That's something the guys didn't get to do. I've been a part of your life from the very beginning, from before you can remember a time without me. And I'm not going to leave your life until you kick me out."

"We both now that's never going to happen," I muttered, trying to peruse the aisles of the store without appearing like I was avoiding him.

"Look, we had a lot of sun for a very long time and it's time for a little rain now, Claire." He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close to him and trapping me between his arms. We stilled for a brief moment before he started walking again, not moving from his spot behind me. "Everything is going to be okay, Claire. I just need you to trust me and trust that I can protect you, that I'll give everything I have for—"

"They're coming after me to get to you," I interrupted. Somehow, hearing him say the words, I realized what it was that Quil was saying. "It's not about me, Quil. It's about you and the Pack. They're coming after me because they want to get to you."

"Why?"  
>"I don't know. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if the Volturi put out some weird Italian vampire hit on the Pack. And the best way to catch a fish is to bait the hook," I whispered. "They're not after me, Quil. They're after you."<p> 


	15. Chapter XIV

**Author's Note: I know, I know; I'm a terrible human being. I'm sorry guys. I was trying to get things done in time and I failed. Anyways, here's the chapter that you're missing from Thursday. If you follow more than one of my stories, please prepare yourselves for a flood of updates. Depending on the night I have, I might be able to put up another chapter for you guys after midnight tonight to make up for it. We'll see. If not, tomorrow will also be an update day for this story. Okay? I'm so sorry guys. I wish I got paid to write stories and books, but I don't. So, unfortunately, I have to deal with annoying customers who think it's funny to leave their waitress $0.73 in pennies as a tip. Awesome, right? Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter XIV: <em>Quil's Point of View<em>**

_Quil!_ No. For a week now, I'd stayed up all damn day to watch Claire at school or practice. I was going to sleep in. _Quil, I'm going to be late to school._ I was not waking up. I was running on fourteen hours of sleep in eight days. _Quil…It's time to wake up._ No; I refuse to wake up. Claire could sleep in. She could stay home from school one day. She was never absent. One day wouldn't kill her. _Okay then; I'll go to school by myself._

I groaned, realizing that the pleasant, angelic voice at my side wasn't part of a dream. It was my lovely, beautiful, _annoying_ imprint that was telling me to take her to school. I grabbed her about the waist and hauled her to my chest, tangling our legs together and burying my face in her hair. "Quil, I'm serious. I have to go to school. You know the rule. Anytime that I miss school, I have to miss a competition. The next competition is state. I won't miss that one," she informed me seriously.

"Your mom never has to know," I promised her. "I won't tell her."

"She'll know when the school calls her to tell her that I wasn't there today," she pointed out.

"I'll call her and tell her that you've been sick," I suggested.

"She's already upset that we've been living alone in a cabin in the woods for a week. Telling her that you've been forced to nurse me back to health during that time won't make things any better." I hated logic on a normal day. I wasn't fond of it when I was exhausted and wanted to stay in bed.

"You'll be the one nursing me to health if I have to get out of this bed, Claire," I warned her. She chuckled and snuggled deeper into my chest, but I could feel that she wasn't relenting. "I'm getting up."

"No, no; you're right. You've been running nonstop for days. You haven't smelled any fresh vampires and the Volturi haven't been a problem. The guys are running patrol and the Cullens are checking in every day. I'll be perfectly safe to get to school on my own. Nothing will happen," she was saying, but I was already being lulled back to sleep by the gentle musicality in her voice.

I must have remained quiet for too long, because I felt my little imprint slipping from my grasp, the soft scent of her moving from the bed. "No, wait. It's too dangerous. We do this every time. We get complacent and let you imprints go off and do something on your own. And then you get taken and you get tortured or hurt and it's all just a bad situation. Give me three minutes and I'll get out of bed; I promise."

She leaned down and pressed her lips against mine. I lapped up the affection, the gentle peck. It was a wonderful show of the intimacy that had grown between the two of us. In the last seven days, we had grown together in a way that was far different from everything that I was used to. It wasn't like the other imprints. Claire and I knew everything about each other. the two of us were two peas in a pod. Unlike the other imprints, the growth of intimacy between the two of us wasn't like the others. It didn't tear down walls and allow us to reveal deep dar secrets. It allowed the two of us come together, to be something more than what we'd been before.

And I wasn't going to lose what I had only just gained.

Her little hands framed my cheeks as she pulled away to kiss my cheek. "There are plenty of other people to look after me. The route is clear all the way to the bus stop. I'll be in plain view of anyone until I get to the bus stop. We both know that no vampire would risk taking me_ while_ the Pack is on patrol _and_ I'm standing in the middle of the street. I'll text Jake and let him know that I'm on my own for the day. And you, Quil, will stay in this bed and dream nice, happy dreams of everything that we'll do when this is over." I could hear the order in her voice, the demand that I take care of myself for a change.

But how could I just ignore what was going on. Something was after me and it was using my imprint to get to me. A regular homicidal vampire that just wanted to kill me? I could handle that in my sleep deprived state with my eyes closed. Hell, I could probably do it while I was asleep. But something coming after Claire…That was a completely different story. I knew how to protect her. I just didn't now how to do it without going crazy with worry. Anything could happen to her and I wouldn't be there to stop it. Or worse. I would be there, watching while someone hurt her, unable to get to her, unable to save her from the pain. That would be hell, a hell that I wouldn't allow. Claire would be safe, no matter what the cost may be.

But I wouldn't be able to protect her when I was this tired. I wouldn't be able to save her when I was too tired to even think straight. I'd thought that her voice this morning was a dream. My senses were sharp. I knew that I would be able to identify threat to her, even make sure that she was safe if an attack came. But I wouldn't be able to fight well enough. "Alright, alright," I agreed when I felt her pull away from the bed and tug the single, thin quilt over my shoulders. "I'll be outside of the school for lunch."

She gave me a smile that said she didn't believe a word that I said, leaned down to kiss my cheek again, and left. Even as I heard the front door closing, I was telling myself that I could sleep for three hours, maybe four. It wouldn't take very long for me to feel more like myself. When two hours of sleep was what you were accustomed to, four hours could feel very much like a coma. I would just take a quick nap, a four hour sleep. Then I would roll out of this bed and put myself in front of Claire's school, to watch over her.

Just four hours.

The sun had reached that point in the sky where it was hovering over the trees. In my line of sight, it was only a few inches above the tops of the pines. Claire would be out of school. But…but I was only going to sleep for a few hours. I was only going to get enough rest to make sure that I wasn't crazy, but I'd slept through the day. And Claire…

Claire wasn't home. Good Lord, she wasn't home. She should be home, with the way the sun was hanging in the sky. She needed to be home.

And she wasn't because I had failed. She wasn't because I hadn't been able to protect her. I'd let her convince me to sleep and now she was going to pay the ultimate price. If the Volturi had Claire…I would find a million ways to kill each and every single one of them. I would burn each limb piece by piece. I would leave them alive for as long as possible, make them feel a million times the pain that Claire had felt.

I ripped the quilt and sheets from my skin and reached for the t-shirt that was lying on the floor, half heartedly texting Jake to let him know that Claire had been taken and was in danger. I had failed as a wolf. It would only be justice if she died. It was what I deserved for being a negligent, self-centered, selfish—

"Quil, I'm home." The door was shut behind her, her beautiful, petite body filling the doorway. I watched breathlessly as she kicked off her shoes and tossed the knapsack she called a backpack aside. "You wouldn't believe the day that I've had. My Spanish teacher gave a pop quiz on the reading that I didn't do last night and, when I only got an _eight_ out of ten, she proceeded to hold me after class to lecture me. I got an _eight_ and I'm getting in trouble? Are you kidding me? How ridiculous is that? Just because I usually get a ten and this _one_ time, I didn't get a perfect score and she—What's wrong? Did something happen?"

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against my chest, feeling her heart beat against her chest in time with mine. I knew that I was trembling, but I couldn't stop myself. "Quil? What happened to you? Is everything okay?" she asked me softly.

"I thought I'd lost you," I breathed into her hair, still trying to clutch her closer. "I thought I'd lost you forever." I needed to find this vampire that was after her. I needed it now. Because if I didn't find it, I was going to go insane with worry for her.


	16. Chapter XV

**Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm not giving you guys excuses, but I will sincerely apologize to you guys for the time between updates. I have made a couple of decisions regarding FanFiction in the last week. If you follow _Beware the Frozen Heart_ or _Unwritten_, they have both been put on hold as I have decisions to make. If you do follow _Unwritten_, I would recommend going to read it and (please, please, please) reviewing. I haven't been receiving feedback lately, so I'm contemplating taking it down. Finally, I have a new system in place for updating. So, please READ THE NOTE BELOW**

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><p><strong>Hey guys! So, I generally try to keep to a schedule and update every other day for each of my stories. I have no problem doing that, but I do have a different problem. I need to see reviews in order to know what you guys are thinking. It's a little difficult to know if people are liking the story or not when I can't look at the feedback. For that reason, I'm implementing a new <em>new<em> system.**

**On each chapter, a number of reviews will be asked for at the end (never more than five, depending on that story's following). In order for the next chapter to be posted, I'm asking for that number of reviews. In other words, my lovely, beautiful, loyal readers are setting the pace. If you want the chapter the next evening, all you need to do is review. If you don't really care when it comes out, don't review. Okay?**

**I hope that you guys understand that I'm not doing this to be mean or vindictive. Rather, I'm doing this to better myself as an author and my stories, ultimately giving me the ability to write better for you all. Okay?**

**Happy Reading!**

**That's all, everyone. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter XV<strong>

Our lives were…interesting, to say the least. I hadn't thought it possible for Quil to become any more overbearing than he'd been my entire life, specifically after I'd been kidnapped. But if there was one thing that Quil was good at, it was proving me wrong. After his scare when I'd come home late from school, he'd become a little…Is there a kind way to tell someone they were becoming crazy enough to be sent to a psychiatric facility? Probably not. Either way, that was what Quil had become.

My schedule because a set-in-stone thing, as it was needed for Quil's patrol schedule. The only time that he wasn't attached to my hip was when I was home. When I was there, he felt that it was safe enough to roam through the woods without me at his side. Of course, that was only after he'd asked me to sit on his back while he ran his patrol. Because the cabin wasn't safe enough, apparently. I'd drawn a quite thick line at the foot of that discussion. The only people who knew that we were here were people who could most definitely be trusted.

Besides, and as I'd told Quil a thousand times, the only way that they would track us here would be following _his_ scent. It was a well known fact that his masked my own. Of course, anyone who knew anything about wolves and imprints knew that following his scent would lead to me. That was why Paul had been charged with carrying Ryanne to her safe zone during the Newborn War. Of course, that hadn't really worked since the Redhead had tracked them down and come after Bella Swan, her now husband Edward, and Ryanne Swan.

Unlike the other imprints, who'd known very little about vampires when they'd discovered that they were imprints, I knew everything. I knew how to tell if one had been in the forest, what the difference between a nomad and a coven. I knew what the Volturi were and the threat that they posed. I knew that the Cullens' appearance in Forks again and the vampires that they brought with them, that seemed to come in droves even after the Cullens had left, meant that there would be a Pack for generations to come.

I knew what to look out for, which meant that Quil needn't be so crazy about looking out for me. I was getting tired of being chaperoned to every event that came across my calendar. Quil was exhausted. What should have been a time for us to get closer, to become something more than just an imprint and wolf was now spent in nothing short of stressful. Between the two of us, all that existed was work and school and sleep. Quil hadn't even kissed me in four days. Although I'd only just recently discovered what kissing him could be like, I was now craving it. I wanted him every second of the day, more than I'd wanted anything else before.

Cabin fever was setting in. I was starting to feel like a tiger in a cage, watching as the rest of the world went on while I struggled to find patience. None of this was Quil's fault, despite what I knew he would be thinking. Unfortunately for the both of us, I was getting to point of not caring whose fault anything was. I just wanted to be angry at someone for a few minutes. Being stuck in a one bedroom cabin with only one other person for company meant that, sadly, Quil was to be the target of all my frustration.

He staggered in from patrol nearly eleven days after the attack and the kiss. I had been sitting at the small table near the kitchen with my history book open in front of me. "Hey," he muttered, his voice dredged in sleep. "How are you?" His eyes were closed, his hand itching at the back of his head. I couldn't tell if he was sleep walking or if he was a zombie. There was a little part of my brain that was telling me to feel sorry for him, to appreciate everything that he'd been giving to me, doing for me.

But that part of my brain was silenced by the angry, hostile woman who had been cooped up in a small cabin for far too long. "I have something that I want to talk to you about and it's not going to make you very happy," I said, my voice brokering no argument. As if someone had shoved adrenaline into his system, he stood a little taller and crossed the room to where I was sitting. I licked my lips and took a steadying breath, trying to convince myself that this wasn't going to turn out terribly.

"What's wrong? What happened? Were you hurt? Did someone hurt you? I told you, Claire, you're supposed to call for help if something is wrong." He sank down into only other chair in the room and stared at me with worry in his eyes. He made it so hard to stay angry, so hard to be upset when I knew that he was doing everything he could to protect me. His hand slid across the table and settled over mine, his brows drawn together.

"Quil, I don't know if I can do this anymore," I whispered. His face fell instantly, his hand pulling away from mine as if I had scalded him. "I just—"

"Once we figure out who is after you, I'll let you…We will—Things will go back to the way that they were before," he promised, his voice thick and heavy. "This can all be over with."

"What?"

"Isn't that what you want? To be done with all of this?" he asked, now confused. "I mean, you just said you can't do it no more."

"I meant I can't stay trapped in this house anymore," I said, reaching over and grabbing his hand between both of mine. "That's what I was trying to say. I can't stay in this cabin and die, Quil."

"The last thing that is going to happen to you is death," he growled, his voice a breath shy of animalistic.

"I mean that I'm losing my mind here, Quil," I explained, trying to make things more clear. "I mean that I can't spend the rest of my life stuck in this house. Bad things happen to good people every day. If we spend every day waiting for the other foot to drop, we won't get to enjoy the moments that we do have."

"Claire, I won't let anything happen to you. I'm working things out as fast as I can, but I just need you to give me a little bit more time. I mean, I'm not a miracle worker," he said, smiling at me a little.

"But you've put our lives on hold in the meantime. We're finally doing this imprint thing the way that we're supposed to, but now you've put our entire lives on hold. I want to go out on dates, Quil. I want you to kiss me until I'm not sure of my own name. I want to learn the things about you that I haven't gotten to know. I want to go outside without feeling like the secret service is following me. I want to go out with my friends. I want to—"

"You want to be a teenager," he interrupted. "And I've been taking that away from you, haven't I?"

"Not intentionally. I know that you would never do that, Quil," I said, closing my eyes and trying think of another way to explain things. "I cannot stay in here anymore. You've always said that I can have anything that I want, that I just have to ask you." He nodded, his gaze serious. "This is me asking, Quil. I need you to loosen the reins a little bit. I'm going to go crazy and we both know that i lash out when I'm crazy. If you're not careful, you'll find yourself on the end of my temper."

"I've been on the end of your temper from the time that I imprinted on you, Claire," he said with a smile easing the hard lines on his lips. "Heaven forbid that we change anything now."

"Good. So, since we're in agreement, I can go back to being myself and you can go back to actually sleeping," I tried. "And I can escape rom this house and go back to doing things the way that I have always done them."

"There is a vampire out there searching for you," he said, pushing to his feet and swaying a little bit. He was tired, exhausted. This needed to be over because we needed to be back to normal. Quil needed his sleep or I was going to lose him before I had him.

"And you have taught me how to look out for the signs that a vampire is there, even the ones that most humans don't normally see. I'll be just fine, Quil," I insisted. "We can't keep going on like this. You are going to go to bed and I am going to visit Aunt Emily and Uncle Sam."

"But, Claire—" An ill timed yawn interrupted his statement about all the dangers and things that would probably end my life. "Fine," he allowed as his eyelids drooped. "But I'll be back at the house in—" another yawn, "in an hour."

"Last time you said that, you slept all day," I pointed out as he started to lower his head to his folded arms. I kissed his forehead as he drifted off to sleep, brushing the strands of hair out of my way. "And you'll sleep all day this time," I whispered into his ear. "Which is just fine because I will just be at Emily and Sam's. Safe and sound."

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><p><strong>Author's Note Cont.: So, for example, you guys could have another chapter tomorrow before I go to work if I receive THREE reviews on this chapter. Enjoy!<strong>


	17. Chapter XVI

**Author's Note: I'm sorry that there weren't chapters up Saturday or Sunday. I got stuck at work on Saturday and didn't have time to read before I could post the chapter and Sunday I ended up with a killer migraine. So, here's the chapter. I'm asking for FIVE REVIEWS for you to receive a chapter update tomorrow. Oh, and please read the not below. It pertains to updates this week and the next couple weeks. I'm heading into finals week and traveling home for the holidays. **

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><p><strong>On another note, PLEASE READ, I have a few update announcements for the next few weeks. Thursday, December 4, 2014, I have a late night exam. Depending on how much studying I do before hand, there may or may not be chapters that day. I have finals week of school December 15 - December 19. As we get closer and I know what days my exams are (and which are canceled), I'll fill you in on some missing days. I try my hardest to update regularly for you guys, so I'm asking that you respect my decision to not update while I have exams. And finally, I will be traveling December 19, 2014 from Wyoming to California. Depending on my shuttle time, flight time, delays, and all other traveling nonsense, I may or may not be able to update. Let's all look forward to December 20, though, as it will be the beginning of six weeks off of work and school for me (and a marathon of updates for you guys).<strong>

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><p><strong>So, FIVE REVIEWS; no updates Thursday this week... Enjoy!<strong>

**Chapter XVI**

I knew that Quil wouldn't be to happy when he woke up. In all truthfulness, I'd taken advantage of his exhaustion in order to get what I wanted. I wanted freedom. No; I _needed_ freedom. Quil would be furious, but he couldn't keep going the way that he was. If he didn't get sleep soon, I was going to lose him to that. I would rather death with his ire than lose him entirely. I pulled the my faux leather jacket tighter around myself and smiled at the dirt. At least I had won this argument.

The air whistled by me, something cold and very wrong. I stopped dead, looking around and seeing nothing. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, warning me to something that couldn't be seen. My mind raced to figure out who was on patrol for the moment, trying to avoid calling for Quil. He needed sleep. Everything would be just fine. "Jake?" I tried, but I knew that he wasn't the one working. "Paul!" I was growing desperate and fearful enough to actually contemplate listing off names. I took another step, looking around for anything bad.

Vampires were, essentially, undetectable. They were supposed to move without being seen or heard. But the reality was that even a cheetah left a foot print behind. With vampires, it tended to be twigs whose break was something that no animal or force of nature would have created. It was the strange whisper of wind through the trees when there were no ripples in the water. There were little signs, things that people ignored that made it easy for others to see. For example, animals knew when a predator was in their midst.

There were no birds whistling through the trees; no hares bounding through the forests; no squirrel scurrying up trees. I was a guest in this forest, but I was no threat. And it wouldn't be the Pack that had sent the animals into hiding. The boys shared bodies and souls with wolves. They were part of this forest's ecosystem. The animals knew that they had nothing to fear. Vampires, on the other, were known to do anything when they needed blood. The Cullens even considered themselves "vegetarian," eating animals instead of humans. If I was an animal, I'd run and hide as well.

The world around me was eerily still, warning me of all the dangers that surrounded us. "I know that you're here," I said loudly. "You can come out here. Or are you too afraid of my Pack?" Quil had once told me that most vampires, especially those that were in league with the Volturi, were proud creatures. They saw themselves as immortal beings, better than all others around them. Vampires had the capacity to use much more of their brains than people, but for most, their tempers seemed to be easy to get.

"I am afraid of nothing," the voice said, sliding over my skin satin. Except that it was satin against burlap. It chafed and burned my flesh. My heart thundered in my chest as he stepped close to me. His skin glittered in the sunlight. Had it been a Cullen or Renesmee walking towards me, it would have made me laugh. Vampires, menacing and dangerous, that sparkled like a gem stone in the sun. But at this moment, this wasn't funny to me. Everything that I had in me was telling me to scream, to call for help, to plead for mercy. An urge that I sternly fought against. I was no coward and I wouldn't show fear here, either.

"And yet you're lurking around the forest, avoiding my Pack, and trying to get to me," I pointed out. "That sounds an awful lot like fear me."

"Or strategy. I have been biding my time, waiting for all of this pressure to die down," he explained.

"Then you made a mistake. Our Pack has dealt with far too many of your kind. We know how you think. They're not going to stop," I pointed out. His hair was blonde and cut short against his skull, very much like a 1940s soldier. His jaw was squared, cheekbones high. He looked every inch a military man. "Jake, Paul, Sam, Seth, Quil," I said the last name a little louder, hoping that it would rouse him from his slumber. He was never going to let me out of his sight again after this. "They'll kill you. Taking me will not help you any. It will only make them angrier. Instead of a docile wolf, you'll end up with one asking for revenge for his imprint."

"Ah, but that is where you're wrong," he said, his smile curling his lips sardonically. "You are assuming that I'm a part of the Volturi, but I'm not. You can think of me more like a man for hire. I'll do anything for the highest bidder. I was hired by a newfound friend of mine to find you." We couldn't have been that wrong. What vampire wanted something to do with me? Quil was going to freak out.

"Quil!" I tried again.

"He can't quite help you right now," the vampire in front of me said. "He was very thirsty earlier. He should be out for the next hour or so. We'll be far out of Dodge by then," he explained.

"His immune system—"

"I did my research," he interrupted. "We'll be getting to know each other pretty well. Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Andrew J. Smith." He removed the ball cap on his head and bowed with a flourish. "And you are miss Claire Young. You're quite good at figure skating, if I may be so bold. And the scent of you is absolutely delectable. I can understand why your mate has kept you so close for so long. I can even understand why he killed my associate." I must have flinched unconsciously, because his features softened. "I won't hurt you. You have my word. I can't say as much for my employers. But I had a younger sister once. I wouldn't bring you harm."

"And yet you're a gun for hire," I retorted. "Somehow I don't find it that comforting." He looked down to the dirt and scrubbed his toe in the dirt. I knew that it was futile, that I wouldn't make it more than a step, but it was worth it. I least I could say that I had tried to fight. "Uncle! Uncle! Quil!" I shouted as loud as I could.

The breeze rushed by me and Andrew J. Smith appeared in front of me. "Why do they always run? I thought that you'd have been smarter than that," he admonished.

"Quil!" I tried again. I peeked around him trying to find a way to get back to the house. I lunged to one side and started forward again. My shin hit something icy and hard, pain exploding through my ankle and forearms as I hit the ground and sprawled on my face. I groaned and rolled to my back. "So much for not bringing me harm, huh?" I coughed. "Quil!" I tried, but my voice was hoarse, the wind having been jerked from my lungs. "Quil."

"I had really hoped that you would make this easier," he said, sighing despondently. I found myself hefted over his shoulder, unable to gain enough breath to struggle or scream or call for help. "To make things clear, my dear, I'm not a gun for hire. An acquirer of sorts. My job is simple. I acquire my object, deliver it to my employer, and collect my fee. It's quite simple, really."

"And…someone…wants…me?" I panted, jarred against his shoulder as he carried me. I thought vampires were supposed to be smooth and kind. "Why? I'm just…an imprint."

"As far as I have been told, this has nothing to do with your wolves," he said. "If I let you down, will you cooperate?" he asked me after a few more moments of dragging me along. I knew that my weight wasn't bothering him, as the vampires were supposedly just as strong as the wolves.

"If I say yes, will you believe me?" I snapped. My lungs received a few blessed gulps of air. I gave myself a moment to recover fully before I began struggling in earnest. I jerked against him, kicking as hard as I could at the parts of him that I could reach. I knew that I was probably just bruising my toes, but I wasn't going down without a fight. I caught the outline of a house in the woods, one that I was fairly certain belonged to Jake and Ryanne. "Jake! Quil!" I shouted as loud as I could, my voice cracking. "Somebody! Help me! Anyone!"

"You're going to try that? My dear, I told you; I've done my research. Your mate will be out for the next hour, maybe two. I'd like to hope for two. And since he was the one supposed to be running patrol, none of the other men will jump in. By the time that one of them notices, or your mate awakens, we'll be long gone," he explained.

"And where exactly would we be going?" I asked, trying to think of anyway that I could give the men a hint.

"Now, dearie, I can't tell you that. I don't suppose you'll be willing to close your eyes? I'd rather not have to knock you out." He dropped me to the ground before him, staring at me so politely while I glared at him. "Well, then you have my apologies," he sighed. His open hand came up to my head, his face the last thing that I saw before the darkness crowded in.


	18. Chapter XVII

**Author's Note: I know that it's been a few days since I updated. Let's just say that, for those who don't already know, I was having a ****_really_**** bad day. For anyone who has been asking, I will be updating ****_Unwritten _****and ****_Magic, Mischief, and Maids_**** tomorrow. I'm asking for FOUR REVIEWS on tonight's chapter. Enjoy!**

**Chapter XVII**

My head was pounding, like a howler monkey had taken up a screaming contest with one of his friends while their gorilla cousin was pounding on my skull to get their attention. All in all, I wanted to find a deep dark hole, curl up in Quil's lap, and let him hum to me until I fell asleep. Unfortunately, there was something that was prompting me to open my eyes. I forced my lids apart, blinking against the light that was searing my retina. "Perhaps we should turn the lights down," a stiff voice said behind me.

I blinked and stretched my neck to one side, enjoying the pop of the joints. I groaned once more against the light before the white cleared and I could actually see what was in front of me. I recognized one of them as my captor, which made me growl. "Let me go!" I snarled, despite the way that my head was spinning as I struggled to sit up right. "You're not going to be happy when the rest of my Pack gets here," I added, though I couldn't see a door for me to escape out of.

"The rest of your Pack won't even know where to find you," Andrew said. "You see, I hefted you over my shoulder and waded out into the ocean, where we met another one of my associates on the boat. From there, we sailed to Oregon, where we took the plane. You've been unconscious in one form or another for the last four days."

"In one form or another?" I quoted, not liking the way that sounded.

"Those anti-nausea pills that we gave you completely knocked you out," he said with a sigh. "We still haven't met my employers, though. I'd have thought they'd have been most excited to talk to you. What with the price they paid for you, after all."

"And just how much was my head worth?" I coughed, looking at the man standing beside my warden.

"Now, now. You never discuss finances with a lady. It's hardly proper. My associate here, Javier Villarreal, is quite excited to meet you, however. I have tried to explain to him that you're noting more than a pest with long hair. He doesn't seem to believe me, though. He has quite the obsession with your scent, as well. It's taken me the last forty-eight hours to convince him that you're not to be devoured or even tasted. If he had his way," Andrew sighed and trailed off.

"You still won't tell me why my head even had a price on it," I grumbled. My hands were bound together, I noticed as I lifted my fingers to probe at my temples. What I wouldn't give for a hot compress and a warm bath. "I would like an answer, if you please. I think we can both agree that I have been fairly cooperative these last few days."

"Cooperative…against your will. Yes, I suppose that you could be. I guess I can tell you what I do know. It doesn't really matter now. You're already far away from your reservation. I doubt your Pack will be able to find you before the boys are ready to give you back," Andrew muttered. Villarreal stared at me, his ruby red eyes glittering with desire. I felt bile burning the back of my throat as I drank in that look. "From what I understand, it was not your head but your brain that was so valuable."

"Why? I'm nothing special." I was the youngest imprint and the longest known one. I knew every piece of information there was to know about the wolves, including all of their secrets. But I knew nothing more than all the other imprints, all the other elders on the Counsel. "Dear God, what did you give me? My head is pounding."

"I do believe it is commonly referred to as a _date-rape drug._ It did completely knock you out, though. It did the job perfectly," he smiled. "Of course, I can't tell you which one. The last thing that I need is for your people to be able to track us down by finding a supplier of whatever drug it is I chose." He traced the hair around my face and tucked it behind my ear. "But I believe Javier knows a little bit more about this."

"The men want to take over the Volturi," Villarreal stated bluntly.

I groaned and closed my eyes against the brights lights that had made my headache worse. "No one can take over the Volturi. They're too powerful. Marcus, Caius, and Aro alone could kill anyone who got in their way. Never mind the fleet of soldiers that they have at their disposal," I said softly.

"I do believe, Miss Young, this is why they wanted you. You are not only knowledgeable in your wolves, but also in the vampires that they fight. Your experience with the Cullens has definitely helped you," Andrew explained.

"So then you would understand, señorita, that the Volturi have made many an enemy during their reign," Villarreal said.

"You say that like their reign is about to come to an end," I retorted. "I thought all vampires new that the Volturi can't be defeated."

"You think so? Your Cullens—"

"They are not mine. I am part of the Pack. I have nothing to do with the vampires," I snapped. Better that that was clarified now. The last thing that I needed was for Bella or Edward Cullen to attempt to come to my rescue. And it would undoubtably be them who came for me. Bella had had a falling out with Jake back in the day. Though I think that everything worked out for the best, Bella Cullen had gone through phases where she'd tried to get back on Jake's good side. I would just be a pawn in that scheme. "And, for your information, my Pack will find out everything and come for me. They're really good at that."

"Your _Pack_," Javier sneered, "helped the Cullens. The Volturi have been defeated before. It was an eye opener for all Volturi learned that they were not as impervious as they have always thought. The rest of the vampire community learned that it would be quite possible for them to overthrow our overlords."

"Quite possible," a heavily accented voice said. The man who stepped up before me had hair the color of snow, the shined like strands of silk. His eyes were blood red and growing darker by the second, proof that he hadn't fed recently. That didn't bode well for my case. At least there were no open wounds to speak of. "I do not believe that we have had the pleasure of meeting," he said, his voice musical and lilting as he spoke. "My name is Vladimir. I worked with your precious pets several years back."

"You're part of the Romanian coven," I said, my head pounding harder.

"You do know your information," another voice said. This one looked older than the first with dark auburn hair that was slicked back against his skull. "I am interested to see just how much information you know."

"Patience, Stefan," Vladimir chastised.

"What do you want with me? I don't know anything about the Volturi. I am the last person that the Volturi would want to kidnap. Caius may have killed all the werewolves, but my Pack aren't werewolves. They're what you all call shifters. The Pack would tear the Volturi apart if they touched me."

"That is one of the things that we cannot allow," Vladimir continued. "We have watched your Pack for many years now. Since just after the Confrontation. You have certain knowledges that not many have."

"Every imprint in my Pack knows the things that I know," I retorted. "You took me because you didn't know who else to take."

"That is partially true," the one named Stefan said, stepping closer to me. "The other mates in your Pack are too heavily guarded. Their mates have all gotten to the point where they are constantly by their wives sides. Or the one with the husband. I would be remiss to forget about him. You, on the other hand, are you and vibrant. You enjoy your freedom, which made it easier for you to be taken. We knew that it would only be a matter of time before you demanded your freedom again."

"So you took me because I know about vampires? That makes no sense. You _are_ vampires. Shouldn't you know everything that there is to know about them?" I didn't like the look in either one of their eyes as they stepped up closer.

"It is not your information regarding vampires that we need to know, but rather your Pack," Stefan explained.

"If you think I'm going to tell you _anything_ about my Pack, you are proof that age can effect a vampire's mind," I snapped, straightening my spine. "If you just let me go, everything will be forgotten," I assured them.

"No; you will tell us what we want to know," Vladimir growled, his voice turning animalistic. "Our coven will be restored to the glory that it once was, before the Italian bastards ruined everything." He nodded towards Villarreal. The latino vampire stepped up to me and shoved me into a rickety chair. "And you will help us by telling us everything we want to know about your wolves."


	19. Chapter XVIII

**Chapter XVIII: ****_Quil's Point of View_**

My first thought was that my mouth felt like I had swallowed cotton. I smacked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, struggling to remember where I was or what had happened last. Claire's smiling face swam to mind. I could vaguely remember arguing with her, but I could recall perfectly that she had won. As if there had been any question that she would. I doubted I would ever win when it came to our arguments. It was too hard to tell the girl no.

She'd talked me into loosening my grip on the reins, on letting up a little bit. Everything in my brain had screamed no, had told me that it was a terrible idea. It was, historically, what most of the vampires waited for. I remember telling her that it would be a bad idea, but she'd very calmly destroyed all my arguments with logic. Logic that now seemed quite flawed. Sure, Claire knew everything there was to know about tracking vampires. I had taught her since back when I imprinted on her. It gave her a sense of power, especially after the kidnapping. Claire felt like she could always know when bad things were coming.

The problem was that knowing they were coming and being able to handle them were two different things. Claire knew the signs of a vampire, but there was no way that she would ever be able to fight off a vampire. Knowing the signs that one was there only gave her the time to call for help, maybe a little time to flee. But she would never be able to get away. She would be captured and killed.

I sat up a little straighter and tried to think things through. Claire had said that she was going to Emily and Sam's. That's all this was. She had been right that I'd needed sleep, but something about the fogginess of my memories made me think that it hadn't been a _natural_ sleep. No! I took a deep breath to calm myself. the last time that I'd overslept, Claire had just been running late and I'd freaked out unnecessarily. I just needed to keep a cool head. I just had to go to the house and make sure that Claire was there. If she wasn't—Well, if she wasn't, _then_ I could freak out.

The room spun a little as I shoved to my feet and cracked my neck. The sun was already beneath the tree-line when I walked out of the cabin. I had clearly been asleep much longer than I had intended to be. Of course, that was par for the course these past few days. I just needed to keep calm. If I let my emotions run away with me. Claire was trying her hardest to act like everything was okay, but I knew how much she loved her freedom. Asking me to let her go the way she was…that was almost as good as an ultimatum from her. No, Claire would be—

Leech.

Every fiber of my being seized up, stopping like someone had placed a brick wall in front of me. I could smell Claire. I had been following the faint scent of her during my walk. But now…now it mingled too much with vampire. My heart sank to my toes and started beating a mile a minute. This couldn't be happening. This was the only thing that I had been afraid of, the only thing that I had been trying to avoid.

"Claire?" I called, but I knew that it was futile. The scent of her was a few hours old at least. There was no way that she was anywhere near this forest. My limbs were shaking before I was even aware of it. The rage in my body flowed hot and heavy, ultimately exploding in mess of muddy brown fur. The air around me was filled with silence. No wolves, no chipmunks. Nothing. I let out a loud, long howl, releasing all the air that I had stored up in my lungs.

I had to keep a steady head about things. Over the years, I had watched the guys struggle with their imprints, watched bad things happen to their mates and watched them lose their minds trying to figure out how to get them back. I'd seen how much that had delayed the process of finding them. I wouldn't do that to myself. I just had to think everything through. We would find Claire.

_What's wrong?_ Paul asked, his voice a little winded. We all teased Paul about his speed for phasing. After meeting his imprint, Charlie, and having a few kids, he hardly had anything to be angry about anymore. What he did have was an inability to let go of the past. He wanted to age with the rest of his family, but the moment that Jake called a Pack meeting or I said that i need someone to cover my watch, Paul was the first man on the scene. Phasing and being a part of the Pack had given Paul something that he'd never had: a _real_ family. It was no secret that life had been difficult for him before. And what we hadn't been able to five him, Charlie had.

_I can't find Claire,_ I said, feeling the others join me and hearing their paws scramble against the dirt. _She said that she was going to Sam and Emily's—_

_She's not at our house,_ Sam cut in, sliding to a stop in front of me.

_I smell a vampire,_ Leah called in a sing-song voice. _Who are we killing?_

_Leah, _Jake warned, coming to an easy stop in front of us all. _Where is Claire?_

I replayed our little argument, the fuzziness in my head, the way that everything that had started to fade before I'd closed my eyes and let Claire walk out. _She said that she was going to Sam and Emily's to talk about something. _

_You were drugged,_ Embry said quietly.

_Who could drug a wolf? I mean, let's be realistic here,_ Jared cut in.

_A vampire who was after my imprint would,_ I growled.

_I thought the Volturi was after you,_ Collin said, sitting back on his haunches.

_This isn't the work of the Volturi. They're all about flash. They want to make sure everyone knows what they did,_ Brady replied.

_And if they were after Quil, they would have drugged him and taken him. Taking Claire makes no sense,_ Seth murmur. He was always the voice of reason in the group, even more so no that he was older. In youth, he was the one that had reminded us that we could still be happy-go-lucky people. Now, he was the one who brought reason into our lives.

_So…you're saying that they were after Claire? We've been running like crazy to make sure that none of our imprints were caught when they were after _**_Claire_**_ this entire time? Why? _

_Maybe Seth is wrong,_ Embry suggested, trying to make me feel better.

_When has Seth been wrong? In the last—what, decade?—when has he been wrong?_ Leah grumbled.

_That's reassuring, thank you, Leah,_ I growled.

_She's just trying to be realistic,_ Paul snapped.

_Enough! _Jake snarled. _This is getting us no where. It doesn't matter _**_why_**_ they want Claire. All that matters is that someone has her. I'll go and talk to the Cullens. Emmet and Rosalie are still around. I'll see if they've heard anything. Paul, you and Jared stay on patrol until I get back. Gather everyone at Leah's. Leah, you and Seth can stay as humans and guard the house. Leah, tell Nate I asked him to keep his eyes open. I know he hates to be considered one of the imprints. Everyone else, sit by the house and make sure that nothing gets by you. Even if you can't _**_smell_**_ leech, I don't want anyone in that house. You don't recognize them, they don't get in._

_Jake, I'm not just going to sit here and wait for you to get back. This is my imprint we're talking about. If this was Ryanne or one of your kids…_

_I'm not asking you to stay here and wait, _Jake was quick to say. _You're going to track this scent down as far you can. Run, fly, swim, I don't care. Take it as far as you can,_ he instructed. The guys were already dispersing, Paul and Jared heading in opposite directions while everyone else ran at a dead sprint towards their own homes. _We're going to find out who has her, Quil. And they'll be damned sorry that they ever even thought about taking her. _

_We can't let any of the other imprints get hurt, Jake. Or the kids. I need Claire back. She'd kill me if anything happened to anyone else, though. If it comes down to it—_

_All the imprints would rather die than have someone come to harm. It didn't stop you from helping us when the Alice Cullen took Ryanne to the Volturi, or when Charlie's parents had her taken by that vampire. I can keep going if you're still doubting. _He nudged me with his shoulder blade, a brotherly gesture. _We'll get her back, man. _

_And if we don't?_

_Come on, Quil. Claire's smart. She's been around wolves and vampires her entire life. She'll survive all of this and we'll come and get her. There's no if we don't. There's only when we do. You'll get her back. _I nodded slowly, trying to imagine who I would be if I didn't have Claire. _And then you'll kill the monsters that took her._

_That_ I could imagine. Very easily imagine.


	20. Chapter XIX

**Author's Note: I know it's been a while. I'm working on it as hard as I can, guys. Here's today's chapter. I'll try to have some up for you on Sunday, though I don't normally update on Sundays. Let's all just keep counting the days to my official Christmas break, shall we? No work; just family and horses, and tons of time to write. Enjoy!**

**Chapter XIX**

I didn't want to open my eyes. At least, not unless I was in the cabin, in the bed, and wrapped in Quil's arms. The chilliness of the air around me told me that I wasn't home and I was as far away from Quil's arms as was humanly possible. "I know that you are awake," I heard above me. "You could make your life so much easier if you would just tell us the things that we want to know." I wanted to go back to sleep. I wasn't hungry or thirsty in my dreams.

In the four—or was it five?—days since I had realized it was the Romanian Coven that had taken me, I had been giving two cups of water and half of a stale dinner role. The questions that they asked were basic. I couldn't quite understand what they had to do with their plotted takeover of the Volturi. Who is the Alpha of the Pack? How many members of the Pack are there? What weaknesses do the wolves have? What brings on the initial phase?

They were all regular questions, nothing that I could imagine would put the boys in danger. Still, I wouldn't answer a single one. I was stretched out on a concrete table, my arms locked above my head and ankles bound together. My shoulders were starting to ache, but I took a moment to spare thanks that I was lying on my back instead of strung up. When I'd been a little kid and I'd been kidnapped, it was one of the worst things that I could possibly imaginable. When we'd been interrogated, Seth's imprint Tucker had made up some ridiculous story about a potion that would get rid of the wolves forever.

I wasn't sure whether or not that story was still the one that everyone was believing, the one that vampires told tales about. It was more likely that the tale had died with the vampire the boys had killed. But I wasn't as quick on my feet as some of the other imprints. I wouldn't be able to think up some detailed story about how to get rid of the wolves. But I could withstand every test, every trial. I could keep my mouth shut against all odds and make sure that no information was given out.

Villarreal was standing in front of me, his eyes hooded, the irises dark…nearly black. He was hungry. Of course, he couldn't bite me without actually killing me. I had figured out rather quickly that I was more important alive because of the information that I could give them. "They've ordered me to begin _convincing_ you to give us the information that we need," he said. I shook my head, the exhaustion making my mind muggy. It was difficult to process what he was saying when all I wanted to do was go to sleep. "I'm hoping that you'll be willing to talk, knowing how desperate they're growing."

"They can go to hell," I snapped, my head lolling back against the table. "I will never tell you anything."

"You may not want to, but eventually you will," he assured me. I rolled my eyes. "Look, just start with giving me a couple of names and they'll let you sleep for longer than twenty minutes." It was a part of my torture. Little water, less food, and barely enough sleep to keep me alive. I received twenty minutes every eternity or so, but it was never enough. I was exhausted and wanted to crawl into a hole and sleep.

His cold fingertips touched the inside of one of my ankles, causing a shudder to ripple through my skin. "Did you know that the Romanians were the first to use impalement as a torture?" Andrew said, coming into my little torture chamber. "Victims were settled on a pole, only enough to make sure that they couldn't get off of it. Then the weight of them would slide them further down the pole. Takes about three days for a person to die from it." He was wiping his hand on a cloth, smiling at me solicitously. "Of course, that was back when torture was acceptable."

The two of them moved me as if I weighed nothing more than a feather, pulling my neck and shoulders over the edge so that my head was hanging at an angle. "But a couple of new torture techniques have been invented. I find a couple of them quite interesting, especially since they don't leave so many marks on the skin," he explained. The cloth that he'd been using to wipe his hands was pressed over my mouth and nose. "This one is one that I find rather interesting. Let me show how it works."

The cloth was partially obscuring my vision, make it hard to see what was coming at me. The water was poured straight into my mouth, sinking into the cloth and filling my nostrils. I coughed and gagged, struggled to get away from it all. But the hands that were holding me were too strong and too damn cold. The cloth was pulled away, my body yanked into an upright position. I sputtered and coughed, welcomed the air that rushed into my lungs. "Now, every time that you refuse to give us an answer, you'll have to suffer through it again."

"Short of killing me, you'll never get an answer," I promised.

Three days later, I wasn't as sure as I'd been. Any water that I swallowed was thrown up the moment that I was allowed to breathe again. The questions that they asked me continued to be generic and irritating, but I wouldn't answer them. "You are making this quite difficult," Vladimir chastised me. By my count, it had been eight days. Except that I couldn't be completely certain. Vampires didn't sleep which meant that someone was constantly with me, constantly trying to make me give them answers.

"Why don't _you_ give _me_ answers?" I coughed. "Like why this information matters to you? Can't you be like the evil villains in movies and just tell me the plan? That way, when I tell you no, you'll know it's because your plan is full of flaws and not just because I'm too damned stubborn to give you what you want." Of course, he snarled at me instead and narrowed his eyes. "Too much to ask? Okay then." I flopped my head back on the heavy table and stared at the ceiling. I wasn't even sure where I was anymore. For all I knew, they could've moved me when I'd been asleep.

"You do not need to know the reason why. You need to give us the answers that we are asking for. Your knowledge of the wolves and their inner workings is instrumental to our plan," Stefan informed me. Knowledge of the wolves was instrumental? That never boded well for the Pack. "I am growing tired of this nonsense. I want my answers. Andrew and Javier have done nothing to get them except make her swallow a little water. We did things differently back in my day. I would suggest that—"

"We need her alive, Stefan. You do not merely enjoy pain; you relish it, my friend. We need the girl to stay alive, which would not happen if you were allowed to torture her. No; it is best to allow our grunt men to do their work," Vladimir cut in before another word could be said on the subject. "It has only been a few days and she has already begun to wither away. We cannot allow that to happen."

I took advantage of their distraction to slide my eyes shut and rest a moment or two. If they wanted information about the wolves, they were planning on using it against them. I just had to figure out how much danger my Pack, my _family_ would be in. Thinking about them then led me to think about Quil. Lord, how I wished that he could be right alongside me. I knew he had no way of knowing where I was. I knew that he was probably scouring the ends of the earth to find me.

But it didn't change the fact that I wanted him to find me at that moment. What I wouldn't give to see a mass of chocolate brown fur and coal-black eyes. The list of things that I was willing to do in order to feel those strong, warm arms around me was extensive. I wanted to feel the rumble of his laughter beneath my ear as I lay against his chest. "What are you doing here?" I heard one of them demand. My ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton. I couldn't discern which one of them was talking to me. "You are not needed."

"I don't know what you're thinking," a new voice said. "The wolves will find you. Do you think that they will let you live once they find out that she is here? She's practically a skeleton."

"You are overreacting, miss Zafrina," one of the Romanians said. "The wolves will not find out that we have taken her until we are ready to attack."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," a third, somewhat familiar voice declared.

**Author's Note Cont.: The story will be updated in three days time, or after receiving FIVE REVIEWS**


	21. Chapter XX

**Author's Note: I know that it has been literally _forever_ since I'm updating. Being home always makes things a little more difficult and, no matter how much planning I do, things never seem to work out the way that I want. I'm just getting back into the swing of things. I'm planning on updating this story and _Chasing the Sun_ tomorrow. Hopefully tomorrow, or really late Sunday (like after midnight), I'll have _Beware the Frozen Heart_ and _Unwritten _updated. By Sunday, my goal is to have _all_ my stories updated. Okay? I'm really sorry about this guys. I hope you all enjoyed your winter holidays (I personally celebrate Christmas, so Merry late Christmas one and all) and wish you a blessed New Year. Okay... I think that covers everything. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter XX<strong>

I knew the voice that was speaking. I was sure that I did. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out who it was. The air was whistling in my lungs, the world around me a hazy lack vortex that I couldn't escape. I just wanted Quil. I wanted the pain to go away. I wanted him to hold me, wanted him to promise me that I would be safe, wanted to feel his hands in my hair. I wanted this to be over and to know that my family was safe in spite of everything.

"Claire? Claire, can you hear me?"

_Yes, but I don't know who you are. I should know but I know nothing and —_

"What the hell have you two been doing to her? She looks like she's about to die," the tinkling voice said. A hand touched my hair, stroking the strands out of my face. "Claire? Can you hear me? I'm going to get you out of here, okay? I'm going to bring you back to Quil."

_Please. I just want to see Quil. He'll know how to make everything all better._

"She'll never be able to answer your questions if she's dead," the voice continued. The hand in my hair was cold to me, probably because of all the time that I spent around wolves. But in comparison to the freezing hands of vampires, this was warmer. "You don't seem to understand how protective these wolves are of their family? She is one of them, one of their mates. They'll kill you and enjoy every moment of it. Claire, I'm going to help you sit up. Okay? Come on." Hands slid beneath my shoulder blades. The arm felt slim and soft beneath my bones, but I couldn't deny the strength of the muscles as I was hefted into the air. "Claire!"

"You're not taking her anywhere," a distinctly Eastern European voice declare. I was dropped onto the concrete table once again, my brain rattling in my head. It was enough to cause me to pry my eyes open and look at the people that were surrounding me.

The first person that I recognized was Zafrina. She was wearing the same sueded crop top with beads and a red sash slung over her shoulder. The black war paint was dusted in a line over her eyes. She was looking at me with compassion, though they were ruby red with the blood of her victims. "Look what you have done to the little human. You wanted to cause war with the Volturi, but you have only succeeded in bringing about our death by wolves. What is it that you want from her?"

"The Pack will slaughter you once they see you. Any thoughts they had of keeping the peace will disappear once they see her," the familiar voice said. I tilted my head back to see lush, almost blood red hair glinting in the candlelight. The face was lovely heart shaped with brown eyes round as saucers and dark reddish lashes that framed them. The features were refined and elegant, almost queenly in nature. Her hair curled in fat ringlets, brushing the tops of her hips. She wore a crop top much like Zafrina's, except that hers appeared to be made of animal hides. There were feathers bound in her hair, pulling the lovely strands away from her face. Her mouth was shaped like a large heart, plump, pink lips that were creamed in frustration and worry.

I knew this person, knew her well and yet I couldn't make the muddle around my brain figure out her name. "Oh, Claire," she breathed, brushing her hands through my hair again.

Every other vampire that I'd encountered, save the Cullens, had red irises and pupils as black as the shadows they hid in. These eyes were brown, human…but the pupils weren't black. Instead they were ruby red, like Zafrina's irises. "Renesmee," I muttered, realizing there was only one creature in this world who would possess those eyes, both human _and_ vampire. Bella and Edward's daughter had left with Nahuel when I'd been young still. She'd felt that it was best, though Jake and his imprint Ryanne had taken her in after some issues with Bella. When she'd met Nahuel, she'd realized there were others in the world who were like her. She'd gone with him and his aunt and, ultimately, convinced them to join Zafrina and her coven.

"Let her go, Stefan. She is of no use to you,"Zafrina said, crouching down before me. "What could you possibly want from the wolves?"

"Our plan is twofold," Vladimir explained, holding up two long fingers. "Either the mortal tells me what it is we want to know or she does not." He said the word mortal like I was the equivalent of cow dung. "If she tells us, then we wage war against her wolves. By defeating those mongrels, we will garner some respect from the Volturi, who will send a delegate out to thank us."

"One who we will then slaughter," Stefan interrupted, his voice triumphant. The glee on his face couldn't be faked.

"By killing their man, we will begin a war with the Volturi, commence the end of their putrid reign!" Vladimir continued. "And if the mate does not tell us what we want, her wolves will attack our people. The Volturi are watching for them, have been keeping close eyes on the Pack. The moment that they attack, the Volturi will come. And we will kill them all!"

"You cannot be serious," Senna said, stepping into the room. "This is madness. You are going to get every single one of us killed. The Volturi will not care who stands with you and who does not. They will kill every last one of us. All you have done is sign your death warrant. There are not enough vampires in this world to stand with you again the Volturi."

"You would be surprised how many have grown tired of their reign!" Vladimir shouted. "You would be surprised to hear the number of our kind who have grown tired of living under the thumb of the Italian scum. They care for none but themselves, for no one but those they claim as part of their coven. Those of us who deny their rule are punished, exiled from the only people tat we know. If a few vampires want to go and kill some pointless, worthless humans, who are the Volturi to say that is wrong? Humans repopulate; millions of them are born every single day. But we vampires are fewer in numbers. There are too many humans to inhabit this tiny rock in space. If we kill a few, if we feast and gorge ourselves on a few of these helpless mortals, who is to care? It is nature's way, the way of evolution. We are the next step in evolution."

"You aren't natural," I managed to cough out, my brain forcing the words to sputter from my mouth. "Vampires aren't supposed to exist. You're meant to be things of myth, to be the stories that scare little kids. You are not the next stage in evolution. You are unnatural beings, the likes of which nature sought to rectify by creating the wolves."

My throat was dry as parchment, the words struggling to make their way free from my mouth. I slumped against Nessie's chest. Her arms were slim as toothpicks, her entire stature petite. But she was strong as steel, the cords of muscles as strong as those that held up suspension bridges. "You're okay," she promised me softly. "Everything is going to be okay."

"You must let her go," Zafrina snarled. "You do not realize the death that you will bring upon us all. There will be a time when the Volturi will be ready to step down, when a revolution will occur. You must be patient," she stated softly.

"We have done our waiting!" Stefan shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls with his scream. "For centuries we have waited for the Volturi to be finished, for their internal structure to collapse, for everything to fall apart. We are through waiting for this to be over. I will not sit here any longer. Now is the time to attack. Now is the time for everything to come to an end. The Volturi will die," he said, his voice ringing with surety. "Aro, Marcus, Caius and every member of their pompous, self important guard will be killed. I promise you this. There is only one question that you must asked yourselves."

He looked between Zafrina, Senna, and Renesmee, his eyes glowing with purpose. There were many things that could be said about this vampire. But one could never deny that he was a born leader. Even with his thick accent and the things that he couldn't pronounce correctly, after centuries of practice, he still managed to inspire. "Do you stand with us? Do you stand against the Italian vermin who have been holding us down for centuries? Do you stand for the new tomorrow, under Romanian rules? Or do you stand with the mortals? With the people that would hunt you down and kill you if they could?"

"I will never stand with you," Renesmee said, her voice ringing clear as crystal. "Not while you threaten my friends."

Vladimir shrugged. "It would have bee nice to have you and your hybrid friends on our side, but if you choose to make it so difficult for yourselves," he sighed, as if the idea that Renesmee was making her life difficult hurt him. "Take these three and make sure they cannot escape," he said, pointing to Renesmee, Senna, and Zafrina. Then he pointed one long finger at me. "We are not quite finished with this one."

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><p><strong>Author's Note Cont.: I'll try to have this story updated in the next ten days. More reviews all prompt me to update sooner, just FYI. Happy Reading!<strong>


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